[OOC] Fallout: Equestria - of RP and Bellyrubs

[Dinh AaronMk]

Once upon a time, in the magical world of Equestria...

... there came an era when the ideals of friendship gave way to greed, selfishness, paranoia and a jealous reaping of dwindling space and natural resources. Lands took up arms against their neighbors. The end of the world occurred much as we had predicted - the world was plunged into an abyss of balefire and dark magic. The details are trivial and pointless. The reasons, as always, purely our own. The world was nearly wiped clean of life. A great cleansing; a magical spark struck by pony hooves quickly raged out of control. Megaspells rained from the skies. Entire lands were swallowed in flames and fell beneath boiling oceans. Ponykind was almost extinguished, their spirits becoming part of the ambient radiation that blanketed the lands. A quiet darkness fell across the world...

... but it was not, as some has predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue for another bloody chapter in pony history. In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters known as Stables. But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them. All except those in Stable Two. For on that fateful day when spellfire rained from the sky, the giant steel door of Stable Two swung close, and never re-opened...
-Prologue, Fallout Equestria. Kkat.

Friendship. Friendship never changes.

Ten years ago a young mare by the name of LittlePip crawled out of her stable – Stable 2 - under Ponyville on a quest to find a friend who had escaped the stable just a day before. Charged with being the perpetrator for this mishap she was spurned forward to clear her name; though she could not still come back. On her adventures she rediscovered her friend from the Stable, and at the same time came to make more.

Velvet Remedy, Pip's love interest, singer, and medic. Calamity, the exiled and excommunicated Pegasi. Xenith, the tortured silent Zebra mare freed from serving Red Eye in combat. Steel Hooves, the Steel Ranger ghoul who remembers Equestria before and during the War that turned his home upside down. And there were more. Through their perseverance – and sacrifice – this group would come to rediscover the virtues and magics of friendship that had been long forgotten.

Overthrowing the threat of the Goddess and her Unity, dismantling the industrial slavery of Red Eye, and grounding the genocidal purge of the surface by the Pegasus Enclave Little Pip and her friends not only saved the Wasteland from triple threats, but restored the sun and parted the clouds to give light to the wasteland for once. And they rekindled the fires of the elements and reawakened their magic to find new bearers: those of Little Pip's friends and of her following.

And there was more. The restoration of hope revealed to Pip her virtue above others and lit the way for others. In sacrifice she saved the Wasteland. In the process the virtues that defined Ponykind after the end woke in a much more distant light, one that underlines existence and penetrates it, but in a newer abstract form. Perseverence, innocence, hope, compassion. The telling story of ponies like her who rose to rescue what they loved and realized themselves.

But as the work of LittlePip seeds itself on the surface as she left the surface, the story of Equestria's ponies and life in the world isn't over. Though the New Canterlot Republic claims to restore the qualities of life before the war there are others that will always resist. Though they may claim much, they control only little. Communities have risen in the shadow of the great forces put to rest by Little Pip and the ponies like her that stand in staunch resistance to the ideals of the fledgling Republic, or in just personal hostility.



What is Fallout: Equestria?

Written in 2011, Fallout: Equestria was a fanfiction of the My Little Pony and Fallout universe authored by Kkat, but has since grown into something larger. In that simpler time of 2011, no one could probably predict the behemoth that the novel-length fan-fiction would release unto the world. Even before the piece was finished the world of cruel juxtapositions that Kkat had spun created - in effect - a sub-fandom living within a fandom itself. Spinning the cruelties of the wasteland of Fallout in with the colorful magic of My Little Pony it was a cross-breeding that probably should not have succeed. But by some stroke of luck or brilliance it worked. And the resulting story - Fallout: Equestria - is lauded as being perhaps one of the brony world's best pieces of literature spawning many hundreds of sub-fics/fan-fictions all its own, music, artwork, a radio play, and even a video game in the works.

In just about three years the FoE world has exploded and continues to chug heavily with a dedicated fandom doubling as fans of the show My Little Pony.

The magic of the story comes in a sense to its workable juxtaposition of the darkness of the Wasteland to the colorful brilliance of the [former] pony world. In its devastation it creates in itself a hope for betterment and the rediscovery of the virtues of old that held Equestria - and the world - together like glue. This does not come with its own tests and challenges to its characters in the form of blood, sweat, tears, and smoke.

It's size and strength as a literary work thus leads me to throw caution to the wind and say: why the fuck not RP it?

It's not like there are already many more doing the same in Kkat's world. So, let's partake in a little something?



Fallout: Equestria - A Primer

(Meaty spoilers abound)

Content

The core story of the Fallout: Equestria "franchise" follows the adventures of the little mare Little Pip from Stable 2, under Ponyville. Little Pip's story begins when the secret romance of her young life and singer of Stable 2 - Velvet Remedy - approaches her about fixing her Pip-Buck (the obvious comparison to Fallout's PipBoys). LittlePip agrees, if stricken that her idol would approach her. However, things go south quickly when its revealed shortly there-after that Velvet Remedy somehow escaped. Much of the Vault immediately blames Pip for Velvet's disappearance, based on her ownership of her PipBuck that would have otherwise allowed them to keep tabs on their starlit.

Wishing to clear her name, LittlePip opts to escape the Stable in search of Velvet. This suggestion is met with hostility from the Overmare who says that if she leaves she could not let her back. Undaunted, she escapes her underground home - and the home for many others over the course of roughly 200 years - and sets hoof into the wasteland of the former nation of Equestria. What follows is an adventure in discovering friendship, secret plots, and the deterrence of evil, genocide, and simply trying to restore what amount of order Pip, Velvet, and their new friends can accomplish.

The Equestrian Wasteland isn't obviously just populated by the ponies descended from those unfortunate souls to have survived the spell-fire, or crawled out of the stables, but a plethora of other races.

High in the sky, beyond the cloud-curtain that covers Equestria lives the Pegasi civilization. Long having declared themselves separate of the ground the Pegasi have lived in strict isolation from the ground fearing exposure to radiation or disease (depending on your stance over Project Horizons, this could be greatly added to). And where civilization on the ground has stopped, Pegasi civilization has kept forward movement, even if largely starved of many resources that would be otherwise available on the ground for their use. Food shortages has put demands on the Pegasi to enforce strict population control to the point of homosexuality being encouraged among the population to keep excessive breeding in check. As well, the Pegasi Enclave work as a loose federated enclave between their giant mobile cloud-cities; sometimes built on the back of war-time sky-ward battleships.



Those of the Pegasi who would abandon the life-style in the sky or act in contradiction against the Enclave's politics are branded as Dashites and exiled to the wasteland below, with orders to shoot to kill if discovered otherwise. Dashites stem from the actions of Rainbow Dash - former Minister of Awesome - who according to the Pegasi committed grave treason against her race for advocating against sealing the clouds between the surface and them. This action forcing her to exile, and later possibly slain by her old friend Gilda acting as a mercenary.

There are then the Zebra. Long considered the proponents of the war that ended Equestria, the Zebra that survive in Equestria today are little-more than nomads. Zebra in capabilities are no different than the Earth Ponies. But the Zebra have in their culture and abilities a host of temporary magical augments passed down between the tribes. The exact stance on the use of talismans and native skill vary between the tribes, with the most ostracized being the practitioners of Dark Magic associated with the Stars and sky above; most often linked with Nightmare Moon in pony concepts (though, this later sentence here is something from Project Horizons, and may depend on your stance on that).



The Zebra during the war fought Equestria over supplies of coal and the gem trade. Lead by the Caesar in the city of Roam, the zebra and Equestrians butted heads over rights to gemstones to power their magic, and Equestria like-wise demanded their coal to fuel their growing industry. However, pride and a series of unfortunate events between the two ultimately mounted to full-scale war. Both sides never really having fought a serious war - the Ponies themselves haven't had major political conflict for over a thousand years - but they learned quickly over the years making blistering progress and leading to the rapid-pace developments of the technologies active in the FoE world. The Zebra are also the first to develop offensive mega-spell weapons - or balefire - after having healing mega-spells leaked to them from within the Equestrian government by Fluttershy of the Ministry of Peace; believing naivly that this would end the war. It instead only accelerated it.

The oldest continually surviving race of the wasteland are that of the ghouls. But it wouldn't be Fallout without our favorite zombies. As with the video games the fan-fic is based off of, the ghouls come in two flavors: those that have lost all reason and become animals and those that are still reasonable individuals. With many living well into two-hundred years old, the life-span of ghouls are long. And despite the natural necrosis the ambient radiation of the Wasteland only helps to heal many injuries not directly associated with cellular death from megaspell magic.



As with radiation in the Fallout world, the megaspells launched by Zebra and Ponykind also work unpredictably. Though they most-often kill on contact, the blistering magical heat of Balefire may also negate death completely, trapping a pony within their own body and rendering them a near-immortal ghoul. Though normal ghouls can be simply killed by suffering too much traumatic damage there are types much harder to kill. Namely those ghouls that have come to populate the former capital of Canterlot. These populations, known as Canterlot Ghouls, have been infected by the necromantic spell known as Pink Cloud which had been pumped thick into Canterlot until the city's inevitable destruction by the Enclave.

Pink Cloud is a megaspell of zebra design. Nearly always fatal, it has however worked the opposite and rendered some unfortunate citizens of Canterlot immortal. Canterlot Ghouls work the same as Ghosts from New Vega's Dead Money and the Red Cloud can be seen as the Pink Cloud's direct inspiration. Even down to doubly rotting and preserving matter it comes into contact with. However Pink Cloud - at initial contact - almost certainly renders flesh and clouds as one and melts the flesh into the matter around it, trapping ponies to choke half-deep in the cement or sealing doors completely shut. For the ferals, exposure to the Cloud has also enhanced their magical capabilities allowing them to take direct control of the cloud around them and using it like a weapon, if they are unicorns.

The population of Canterlot Ghouls is however effectively nonexistent after the course of events of Fallout Equestria. Canterlot was totally glassed by the Grand Pegasus Enclave slaughtering both the ferals and sane ghouls that lived within the city, ending the threat of being smothered by the city on entry, having one's head explode by radios, or being devoured by creatures that can resist the impact of bullets.

As a whole, the question of survivals of ghouls in the new wasteland his in question. The ghoul community as a whole in under-threat of extinction. With the firing of Gardens of Equestria by LittlePip and her companions the Wasteland was scrubbed clean of the ambient radiation and taint. As a whole the whole of Equestria was brought back to a neutral state. Such a thing was good for the rest of the world, but to the ghouls it was devestating. Without ambient radiation their healing functions cease and they find themselves incapable of rebounding after trauma or even slight damages. This as a whole means they effectively age again and can simply cease to live.

As a solution, Ditzy Do/Derpy Hooves - one of the pre-war ghouls to live and retain sanity (if without a tongue) - has organized the production and distribution of freshly irradiated water which is sold to ghoul communities across Equestria to fill their radiation need, though the practice is only one option and the only large-scale one. One that could be easily disrupted.

The last race worth covering for story's sake are that of Alicorns. Relatively new - in a way - to the Wasteland environment, the Alicorns are an effect of the experimentation of one of the few surviving figures from pre-war Equestria. Exposed to a chemical known as "Taint" - which apart from Mareposa and some other isolated locations is eerily constant in Equestria's background radiation - Alicorns are bred from unicorns. Those that survive the mutation with no unwanted mutation (such creatures becoming the Fallout Centaur with pony features) become Alicorns, slave to the will of the greater amalgation of collective personalities known as The Goddess.



The Goddess herself is mostly all of one pony who exerts absolute control of the mass of personalities: [The Great and Powerful] Trixie. Through telepathy and a collective consciousness she controls her Alicorns with a single-purpose: to convert all life of the Wasteland to her one singular, brilliant, race. She is however blinded by her own ambition, despite the coaxing of Twilight Sparkle - which is another quarter of her being - and doesn't notice that one of her allies - Red Eye - is proactively seeking a way to breed stallion Alicorns and that her own simply can not breed, which disturbs the other personalities of her being even if they keep silent about it.

Trixie and Mareposa are ultimately destroyed by a megaspell slipped into it by LittlePip, having erased her memory with magic prior to launching her grand plan and distributing only the relevant bits of the plan to her friends so Trixie could not predict her motives. This move liberates the bulk of her Alicorns leaving them to their own will as the scattered personalities seek a new refuge, mixing or finding no body to call their own. Many of the survivors find themselves citizens of the New Canterlot Republic, a product of Little Pip and friend's adventures once relative peace was restored. The NCR as well managed to research into gender-bending potions to allow the Alicorns to have families has they desired, though their offspring's magic is considerably muted in comparison to their parents (who themselves only specialized in one of three types of magic: shields [Dark-green], teleportation [Twilight-purple], Invisibility [Trixie-blue]).

The firing of Gardens of Equestria has also effected the Alicorn community. Prior to the fall of The Goddess alicorns could utilize radiation to restore their magical abilities or even provide a temporary boost and overcharge to their individual powers. But with a lack of concentrated radioactive pools and craters the alicorns are incapable of rapidly recharging or boosting their abilities, and so either remain stunted or most rest for longer between excessive bouts of magic.

Within the lore there are more races. Griffons, an instance of two-dragons - one more than familiar - Hellhounds - Diamond Dogs twisted by radiation and "Taint" and their augmented counterparts in The Hoof: Sanddogs, Robots, and so on. There's a wide diversity to fit whatever narrative you wish.



Beyond race, the story explores in some fashion war-time politics involving the failed assassination plot on Princess Celestia, which instead killed Big Macintosh and resulted in her abdication as Princess and the rise of six ministries ran by the Mane 6: Ministry of Arcane Science (Twilight Sparkle), Ministry of Image (Rarity), Ministry of Peace (Fluttershy), Ministry of Morale (Pinkie Pie), Ministry of Wartime Technology (Applejack), and the Ministry of Awesome (Rainbow Dash). Universally these ministries lead to the deterioration of friendships between the Mane 6 as they get drowned in bureaucratic duties and war-time stress, including addiction to dangerous chems and excess paranoia (Pinkie Pie) and the pursuit of family affairs and a maternal relationship (Applejack). The conspiracies of the ministries float in and out, revealing the greater scheme in the war effort (I could also mention Project Horizons here again and see how many cringe). The Ministry of Wartime Technology also later breads the Steel Rangers who as part of the old Equestrian Military (ran by that Ministry more-or-less) covets technology in the same way the Brotherhood of Steel did; this ideology later leads to a civil war and the formation of Applejack's Rangers which hopes to use technology in the virtuous way Applejack would have wanted (Though its leader and former prospective father to AJ's child dies).



There is then Red Eye, the enigmatic slaver from a Stable himself. Red Eye saw the necessity of sacrifice to achieve the industrial and societal means he thought necessary to the reconstruction of Equestria. He was a any-means necessary villain bested only by the Grand Pegasus Enclave. Utilizing mass slavery he sought to reconstruct the wasteland. He also dabbled heavily in alicorn experimentation and sought to make himself an alicorn.



He was a character who professed himself a savior, a paragon to the Wasteland. But he was in his methods cruel. It may be argued that he saw many of his actions sacrificial for his mission that he expected the same out of everyone serving him. It was this mentality that made him brutal in his methodology.

Ultimately, the story climaxes on an assault on the Pegasi military base at Neighvarro. The intermediary details are long and complicated, and include at least one case of a massacre by Little Pip so the above details are all that's going to be dumped. But revealed in part through dabbling in the memories of the old world its revealed the many cloud-height towers across Equestria are linked to a single installation that's been in two-hundred years of lockdown. This installation - the Single Pony Project - was a effort by the Ministry of Awesome to lessen the burden of resources on the Pegasi by establishing a network of weather control in such a way that a single pony may control the entire nation's weather, so long as the towers stand. The installation was locked, awaiting for Rainbow Dash or a descendant to unlock it; which Little Pip was not but found a way (involving Spike the two-hundred year old dragon).

LittlePip gains control, meeting the remains of Princess Celestia and her consciousness that she uploaded into the installation's computer. However, she did not have the power to actively use it and could only sit by for two-hundred years and watch in horror and agony the world below. The installation backfired for her, and ceased working. Realizing this, LittlePip knew she had to take control and did, plugging herself into one of the pods and assuming the roll of the SPP operator and ruler of the weather. She never went full Celestia, but maintained herself in the station.

Years later, she still lives there. Down below her new romantic interest, the DJ named Homage uses the SPP tower's role as radio towers to deliver radio broadcasts across the Wasteland and the first-person account of Little Pip's adventure on capturing Neighvarro. And at her journey's end she brought the light of the sun to Equestria proper, earning the title Light Bringer by the fledgling nations below, still trying to scrape together on the post-war ruin.

Map



As a NRP'er traditionally I find it helps visually to have a map, for positioning purposes. But as a note I want to say that I'll probably work on this more since I more directly “borrowed” off of the canonical map of Equestria, the world of FoE itself lacking a map all its own. In the future I will probably re-proportion it to try and match the scale of the wasteland and to space everything out. But it's hardly like it'd have an effect in any case. It's just a visual aid.

Application

Name:
Race:
Physical Appearance: (Include gender and/or age)
Backstory: (Minimum four full paragraphs)
Other: (Optional information. Fallout-esque Karma rating, SPECIAL, Skills, traits, whatever you want to add as gimmicky side-information)

Rules

Purely as a formality I'm going to include this here. But as a whole I prefer “community moderation” over absolute authority in a single person. Which means if as a whole a large majority doesn't like something or wants something, they'll get it. I encourage voicing concerns if you have even the smallest, in that way we can keep on the same page and we can all trust each other; or address matters before they become a big deal.

So aside from the major rules on kosher role-playing I do feel that at this moment I do need to add something: I may have alicorns as an official race, given their central position in much of the FoE universe. But that does not mean that magic is unlimited, more so among them. Within the core story the alicorns specialized in – on top of basic levitation – in one of three sets of magic: invisibility, shields, and teleportation. This is often color-coded and for those free from The Goddess it's very likely they can not perform any spells outside of this.

Once more, even if they're breeding now let us assume that because of the methodology of turning the first generation alicorns to male and in the process of copulation that any second generation alicorns (though they'd still be incredibly young) would have considerably muted magical capabilities, probably hardly mastering their parent's abilities to the full extent as they. Or: more in comparison to normal ponies.

As well: due to the lack of actual formal education in magic many unicorns themselves wouldn't have any mastery over spells outside of basic levitation and maybe a few skills they learn from whatever trade they inherited (healing magic, as an example). This and alicorns are not something I plan to move on.

And: no edgy edge-lords.

And for those who made apps on the Interest Check I'd like to ask they be re-posted here to the OOC. Keep them all in once place and all that.

[Todd Howard]

Level 2 Hellhound

Romt's Theme

-Name-
Romt

-Race-
Hellhound

-Physical Appearance-
Romt is a male Hellhound somewhere in his mid-twenties. Standing at around 5'11". His fur is a tawny brown, though generally a tad darker due to getting covered in dirt while digging and not bathing. He has multiple scars on his body, noticeable on his stomach and arms if anypony bothered to look. They are less from actual combat and more-so from training, though there are a few wounds from other combatants visible. His face isn't prettier than any other Hellhound's, especially when his mouth opens, revealing not only the fact he has terrible breath, but also teeth that look sharp enough to take a limb clean off, similar to his claws. His ugly mug usually seems to have a neutral expression that allows him to come off as passive to most, but can be replaced with a snarling face of anger when enraged by either somepony around him, or outside sources.

For attire, he has a black vest similar to those worn by Diamond Dogs before the war. It's torn in a few places, but for the most part it's in one piece. On his head is a brown, broad-brimmed hat he'd picked up during his travels. These pieces of attire give him a differing appearance from the Hellhounds that still avoid pony-kind, which is mostly why he decides to wear any of it. He can usually be seen with a bag slung over one of his arms filled with supplies, and a revolver holstered at his side.

-Backstory-

Clicky Clicky.

Born in Ponyville after Fluttershy turned it into a Hellhound Sanctuary, Romt was raised on the knowledge necessary to help him be one of the Hellhounds of his generation to be more accepting of pony-kind. The history of the Diamond Dog's did not mean as much now, as if anypony in the wastes wanted to thrive, they needed cooperation. Romt generally never showed any distrust towards the caravan ponies that visited the Sanctuary, being more equal and friendly with them as planned by the elders. The pups were certainly going to be a step in the right direction for Equestria.

Over the course of his younger years, he was taught effective techniques used by the Hellhounds; Digging techniques were considered necessary, and a focus on strength and agility was also necessary to ensure a Hellhound was still at odds of winning a fight without a gun. Though he did have firearms training, but never got the chance to use much in the way of Energy Weapons due to them becoming rarer. A part of his firearms training was learning how to modify weapons so he could hold and fire them in his hands. The process wasn't half as complicated as it first appeared for him, and after being given time, he learned how to modify weapons without wasting too much precious time. It wasn't an instant process, but it was fast enough to not take up half his day.

What time was left after training with the older hounds, he mostly spent with other pups like himself. They enjoyed a bit of play, and listening to stories on the radio about events before their time. They also practiced with each-other in a competitive fashion. Romt was the second strongest pup, but forth fastest mechanic out of the six of them. He tended to slip up at times, prolonging the process of modifying guns. As irritating as it was, he was usually just told that slip-ups happened when trying to do work quickly. Which, while true, didn't make him feel much better.

As he began to grow older, Romt began going out to patrol the caravan routes with the elder hounds. This was a task Hellhounds were generally good at, as they could cover a lot of ground and deal with issues more effectively than Earth Ponies and Unicorns, and could compete fairly with pegasi and Griffons for the most part. His first encounter with an enemy came during his second run; He and his leader at the time, Gurzil, encountered a small group of raiders waiting to ambush a caravan. He proved to be fairly competent; Taking out one pony with a shot to the neck, and also landing a shot to the chest of another. There was the occasional miss during the firefight, but overall Romt didn't waste too many bullets to make himself concerned. He felt satisfied with getting through without being injured, though Gurzil ended up being shot in the arm, which was certainly concerning for Romt. The bullet passed through, but it halted them until they stopped the bleeding.

Patrols of the caravan routes would continue for years, it was becoming his job to ensure trouble was cleared away for the caravans so they could pass through. Some thoughts crossed his mind as he got older, mostly about how closed in he felt with just trotting the roads. There were enough taking to the roads, weren't there? He wished he could have some more freedom rather than this task that many others were doing. He figured that trouble had to run out in the wastes as well. so having him out there could help more ponies than just the ones travelling the caravan routes.

The best decision he could make was to bring it up with the elder hounds for their opinion on the matter, and their response was simple; He could leave to travel the wastes how he liked, but would be on his own. He could always return, but it'd be generally more dangerous to explore off the roads, leading to him being unable to make it back. Not caring too much about the conditions, he stated he would be leaving to patrol more than just the caravan routes, and provide assistance to others who needed it. This decision was respected by the elder hounds, and soon after their discussion, he had collected basic supplies and left without much more thought. He wasn't sure where he was heading, but had a basic idea of where areas of interest were.

He traveled a fair distance, occasionally visiting towns for supplies, but sometimes having a difficult time interacting with them. Over time, his visits to stores became more common and he was more welcomed, but at first it was mildly rough for him. This stood for his journey as well; He had some difficult times in the wastes, sometimes hardly able to afford supplies, or having to deal with the Equestrian Wasteland's many dangers that didn't even involve right or wrong. Then there was the times right or wrong was thrown into the mix, making his life harder as he tried to uphold the peace and keep those who were innocent safe, which involved risking his life on multiple occasions.

As of now, he's grown to be a sort of helpful figure for the wastes. He's not exactly well-known, but ponies don't tend to forget a mutt like him once he lends them his aid. Deciding to travel a caravan route for old time's sake, he met a small group being assaulted by the remains of a raider squad. Between him and the caravan guard, the raiders were dispatched without much harm to the group or the caravan goods. After taking a moment to recall good memories of his time as a growing pup, and a minor introduction to one-another, Romt decided to travel with them to New Appleloosa giving he was running short on supplies. He'd be there for a short while to make sure he was prepared to hit the trails once again, where nopony could ever be sure of what would happen next.

-Karma-

Karma Points
255 ~ Good.

Karma Title
Polite Pup

-Perks/Traits-

Trait ~ Hellhound Teachings: The Hellhound Elders have stuffed your head to the brim with their knowledge of combat and mechanics, allowing for you to fend for yourself better in the wastes. You gain +5 to your Unarmed, Small Guns, and Repair skills, but lose 5 points in subjects that were never a focus in your life. (Medicine, Science, Explosives.)

Trait ~ Untrusted Hound: Ponies still don't trust Hellhounds like you, and they can make your life more difficult if you make mistakes. All Negative Karma is gained at quadruple the normal value. On the bright side; As long as you maintain Good Karma, you gain a +10 to your Speech Skill and a +5 to your Barter Skill. Neutral Karma grants no downsides or benefits.

Companion Perk(Freya) ~ Hit First And Last: Freya's fast nature in combat has rubbed off on you, allowing for you to be generally more agile in combat. As long as Freya is a companion, you gain a +1 to your Agility while in combat, and a +2 to your Combat Sequence.

Level-Up Perk ~ Gun Mutt: You have grown fond of guns and have more knowledge about them and their mechanics than the average Joe. You gain +5 to your Small Guns and Repair skills.

[Dinh AaronMk]

And as in the OOC, we're good.

I'll cook up my character app later today. Right now it's too early in the morning to get anything started before I need to work.

[Chapatrap]

Action tiem

Name:
Sacred Grey (Sacre Gris)

Race:
Earth Pony

Physical Appearance:
I made a tasteful nude for this
A slim yet small stallion with a white coat and a dull grey mane, Sacred is by no means a pony you would look twice at. His mane and tail are cut shorter than normal, as is traditional with the tribes of Prance and his eyes are a glittering grey. As a foreigner, his way with words is considerably slower and heavily accented, as his first language is a Prench dialect (jesus christ....) He stands in the prime of his life and age has not yet effected his youthful features but the sand and dangers of the wasteland have left their mark in the form of scars and bad memories. A cutie mark appeared some years ago and has manifested itself into a fleur de lis.

Clothing is worn and discarded by Sacred on an almost weekly basis, depending on his line of work and how bad it smells. His only constant piece of clothing is a filthy, camo bucket hat that keeps the sun out of his eyes. Weaponry is non-constant, as he finds larger weapons too heavy or jangly to drag around the wasteland. A machete is sheathed around his neck for use from the mouth but most guns are cumbersome and practically useless in his hooves. In the case of a firefight, he will run or try to find a place to hide to avoid being shot. A leather pouch around his neck serves as a small bag, usually containing some supplies and a wallet.

Backstory:
Sacred Grey was born into a tribe of Prench ponies in Prance, an area to the far south inhabited solely by Earth Ponies that caught the downwind of war. With the destruction of Equestria came the violent implosion of nearby countries into civil wars. Like dominoes, country after country fell to anarchy. The misty moors of Prance were turned into an overgrown, dangerous wasteland full of tribes, factions and families all vying for control. Before the war, Prance hadn't exactly been prosperous and the poverty only worsened after the war. Many Prench ponies began leaving for a different life abroad and Sacred's small tribe were no different.

Traders trickling from the northern badlands told stories of Equestria, of the wealth of its cities and the prosperity of its ponies. Of course, these stories were exaggerated to the extreme, as Equestria was in no better condition than Prance but the Prench ponies clutched to this sliver of hope with their lives. Sacred's tribe of 60 ponies began their journey across the Badlands, all looking forward to their new lives. Six years later, Sacred Grey emerged from the Badlands alone, 59 of his companions having fell to the sands. Sacred's entire family, his friends, his world, had all been killed two years previously and the little pony had spent up to two years wandering the badlands himself, forever pushing himself to go north and complete his families dream of a new, prosperous life.

During his six years in the Badlands, Sacred learned a lot with his father. He'd already been rather young when they'd entered the Badlands and along with his father, learned skills for living in the wasteland. His cutie mark appeared while in the badlands and manifested itself into a fleur de lis, which probably relates to his love for the flower or the fact his first language was Prench. As the years passed, the tribe was slowly whittled down by attacks on raiders, hunger, dehydration and disease until only Sacred remained. For two years, he continued his journey north alone, determined to finish the journey so many had died to finish. He exited the badlands a different pony than the one that had entered. Once inside Equestria, he found the stories his tribe had told to be far from the truth. In fact, the Equestrian Wastelands were just like Prance, if not worst. However, the journey across the Badlands had taken a lot out of him and he doesn't wish to make the journey back to Prance anytime soon. He settled into simple extermination and hunting jobs out in the small towns for folk. His Equestrian was poor but slowly improved as the weeks turned to months. He drifted from town to town, offering his services to anyone who'd have him, good or evil.

After spending a year like this, his tracking skills caught the attention of slavers, who began calling on him to hunt down their runaways. Slavery was a concept he was initially uncomfortable with but he settled into the job when he realised how easy it was to track scared, weak ponies. Plus, the pay was great. Eventually, he went full-time with the slavers but has always made sure to distance himself from the families and tribes. By not affiliating himself with anypony, his market opened widely and he doesn't have to get into the often turbulent world of Wasteland politics. After a few years of drifting from slaver group to slaver group, Sacred found himself working with a small group led by a charismatic Zebra called Decimus who shared his ideas of not getting involved with slaver politics and offered his services to anyone. This suited him fine. This professional group of trackers has become well known amongst the slaver community for their efficiency and neutral stance in politics.

Decimus' group of trackers often fluctuates in size but has always included Sacred as a tracker, who gets his hunches right 8 times out of 10. Decimus stands as the groups leader and the groups main barterer, often meditating negotiations between the more demanding members of his crew and the slavers. Almost twelve years have past since Sacred Grey left the Badlands behind and he has well established himself into Equestrian society. His Prench receives rare use in real life but Sacred uses it as a first language, often speaking a pidgin Prench/Equestrian. Old memories of his tribe, lost to the badlands, have faded like his scars from his days in the Badlands and he no longer associates himself as the last member of them.

Sacred Grey had to adapt to life in the Badlands and to life in Equestria. Now, as the winds of change begin shaping the Wastelands again, Sacred will be forced to adapt again. But it won't be hard. It never was before.

Karma Title
Smelly Parfait - Neutral but leaning on Evil.

Traits

Rat de Friche
You've survived in the wasteland for many years on your own and have done disgusting things to yourself in order to stay alive. GG! As such, you now know how to look after yourself in the wild, wild wastelands but unfortunately for you, your social skills are better suited to a 13-year old kid who likes comic books.
+5 Medicine, Survival
-5 Speech, Barter.

Cheese-eating-surrender-pony
You have embraced your natural instinct of 'flight-and-hide' and will probably be better off escaping than trying to fight off raiders due to your small stature and general cack-hoofness with guns. However, you're better at hiding and will fight if stuck in a corner.
+5 Sneak, Melee Weapons
-5 Guns, Repair

[Dinh AaronMk]

And I know you, so I'll initiate bias despite bumping up the minimum requirement.

[Chapatrap]

I think I'll add another paragraph or two anyway. Make the history a bit less waffley.

Re-did the entire history to make it longer and better. I'm also going to add some fun Fallout stuff at the end for shits and gigs.

App is done. Now, when can we start IC fun times?

[Dinh AaronMk]

I want to send out a mass-reminder to some people. But for all intents and purposes: yes.

I also forgot a detail about ghouls I should add. So I'll do that. In the meantime, my character sheet:

- Name: Rusting Bits
- Race: Earth Pony

- Physical Appearance:
Dusty brown young-adult stallion with dark-red brown stockings. His mane is pale golden yellow. Green eyes with a distant waxing stare.

Generally dresses in a heavily stitched and padded coat laden with large pockets and a heavy backpack. A pair of cracked goggles rests over his eyes over-top a molted red handkerchief wrapped around his forehead. Physically no stranger to the natural wear of the wasteland with a patchy natural coat worn thin or bare in spots, even with the taming of the weather over much of the desolate country.

- Backstory:
No stranger to the art of the road, Rusting Bits was born to a clan of caravaneers wandering the wastelands trying to irk out a living from savaging refuse and repairing or reselling gear, looted or sold to them otherwise. The nature of the Caravaneer market kept them moving in all without rest.

As of this, Rusting was born rather literally on the road. He was still in his wrappings with the work of labor barely dry on his coat when he and his family moved on, pack brahmin in toe. And being on the move rarely afforded appropriate luxury and as soon as he was able his family had him tending to his role in the Caravan. Without play he knew only work, and with only work he was never formally educated. For the most part he learned reading from road signs and old pre-war advertisements that still clung to life high above the ruined and snaking highways of war-time Equestria. But this was hardly a true education and only went as far as to help him with the names of the countless settlements that littered the Wasteland and identifying any standing and functioning structure that might aid his survival: the clinic, general stores, the bar.

Even as a busied and troubled filly, young Rusted did hold to that common fear of his cutie-mark. Most often he dreaded the possibility of being born simply to shovel brahmin shit or to evade raider's bullets. The anxiety was only more-so given that he was by all means a late bloomer. He had the distinct humiliation of being beaten to knowing his life's talent after his younger half-brother and cousins learned their own. This compounded a whole new fear: of being useless and fit for glue. But his troubles never seemed to connect with the adult stallions and mares, who in their tired empathy only smiled half-heartedly at his blank-flank frustrations.

He would though – like everypony – come to find his purpose. But not in doing and more in accepting. He had tried everything in the tortured ritual of attempting every conceivable thing down to even attempting to spellcast. But in jury-rigging a broken rifle and battle saddle he came aware of his talents as he watched his brother's amble through. Earth Pony magic was strange, and in realizing he earned his cutie mark: the rusted illustration of bolt, screw, and scrap.

The relief was tremendous, but celebration brief. Soon after he was awarded a hearty toast, introducing him to his taste for alcohol. And then: they were on the move.

The following years were defined by the quest to simply keep living, and the adventures into mares to forget the problems he had at every town they crossed through. He would earn his wages from work and bartering, to then blow it on prostitutes and booze. In his young age, with purpose, and like-minded stallions with him it was easy to forget that - when not being shot at by raiders - life could change.

Shortly after leaving behind them Flankfurt to adventure back towards Canterlot the family caravan cantered into a raider's trap. Hidden in the rocks, trees, and knolls of the highlands outside of Hoofington gun fire opened on the group, cutting much of them down and scattered the rest. Rusted Bit had little actual experience in combat, and though tried was shot in the shoulder and collapsed. In less than four minutes his kin were killed, and the rest sold as slaves. He was left for dead as the bandits rifled through their gear and took off with what they could.

Rusted was found roughly twelve hours later by a separate group of travelers who found the ruin of the caravan. Finding Rusted alive, if barely there, they attended to the fallen stallion; healing his wounds and cleaning out the infections beginning to fester there. It wasn't until days later that after a regimine of healing potions to repair extensive damage to his right-front shoulder blade and lungs could he walk off. A shattered stallion.

Having nothing else to do, Rusted had no choice but to continue the life of a caravaneer, but a more somber dealer. He moved quieter, made no significant contact, and spent a large amount of time slumped across a table with the end of a bottle of Staliongrad's Best in his mouth. He still worked magic with his hooves, and to keep up with the bills offered himself out in a more diverse set of skills. Handiman, courier, and briefly both kinds of escort.

Traveling all over, he was one to become jealous of the New Canterlot Republic and its care-free wealth and sense of safety. But although jealous he was frustrated he could not be a part of it. He had no money. And he couldn't stay rooted. It was much the same for elsewhere in the wasteland from East Coast to West. Tenpony to Vanhoover.

- Other:
Karma: 0 (Nobody Traveler)

SPECIAL:
S - 7
P - 4
E - 6
C - 6
I - 5
A - 6
L – 6

TRAITS:
Road-Worthy Barter – A life on the road and dealing with others for caps and food has installed a life-time's neccesaity in knowing the working of caps. You can also bullshit. +5 barter and +3 speech

Scarred – The brutality of the open wasteland isn't a stranger. Knives, bullets, bombs, stingers, and claws have all gracelessly graced your skin. The build of scars and roughening of your coat is almost a layer of defense in itself. +1.5% defense from all damage types (exempting radiation, poison, and taint)

[Chapatrap]

A most delicious app, Aaron. I'm liking this little roster we've built up. Hopefully it expands over the coming days.

[Strudel]

Name: Nexus
Race: Unicorn

Physical Appearance

Backstory: Having been born in a stable Nexus missed what most people would describe as the wasteland at its worst. When her stable did finally open however, those who stepped outside were swiftly picked up by a band of slavers and dragged off to a life of hard labour. Unfortunately Nexus was among those taken and over the next few months witnessed as those around her were worked to death or sold to equally cruel masters.

For the next few years she remained a slave, passed on from one master to the next until she was finally put to work in one of the last remaining slaver strongholds, the steel works. This heavily fortified pre-war facility has once been used by Equestria in the manufacture of Steel Ranger armament. As such, the slavers who now ran it had far more defence than the average rag tag wasteland group with capacity to make more of whatever they used.

It seemed to Nexus that this would be the end for her. The flat featureless landscape around Steelworks made escape impossible as anypony who by some miracle made it past the wall would quickly be spotted. So she continued on as ever, working the factories along with the other unfortunates around her.

After what felt like months trapped in Steelworks, Nexus stumbled across the formation of a slave uprising. Figuring that she had literally nothing to lose, she worked with the other slaves to gather what they could. They hoped to catch their masters off guard and some how rally the other slaves together.

Ultimately their plan failed when one of their own confessed to the slavers the plan in hope of bargaining for their own freedom. Nexus and the other conspirators were rounded up to be executed as an example to the other slaves. Just when it seemed like the end, Steelworks came under attack from an army of raiders hoping to take the stronghold for themselves. The slavers with their far superior defences easily dispatched their attackers but the distraction was enough for a risky escape. Of their original group only Nexus and a couple of others made it beyond the wall and under the limited cover of the ongoing fire fight and darkness they made their bid for freedom.

After reaching a safe distance they decided to split up, the firefight was over and the slavers knew they has escaped. Deciding that alone they stood a better chance each of them went their own way with a promise to one day meet up again should they remain free.

Other:

Karma: +250 Good
Freedom Fighter

Traits:

Art of Evasion - You’re life as a slave has required a higher understanding of subtly and sneakiness to stay beneath the radar.
+5 Sneak +5 Lockpicking

Ex-Slave - You’ve been through some of the worst things life could possibly throw at you yet you made it out alive. While the physical damage may never heal their are few things that you aren’t prepared for.
-1 Strength +1 Toughness

[Dinh AaronMk]

Welcome into the club.

[Todd Howard]

Hurray, Strudel!

[Dinh AaronMk]

I could work on a post.

But I got to eat and I got logo work to do.

[Strudel]

Thanks Raddum!
I did update the picture with some better shading ^^
Soooooooon

[Chapatrap]

Posted for the fam.

Now to run it through Gizoogle. And oh lawd, it's wonderful.

[Strudel]

Hm, I'm not really sure where to start off ^^;

[Dinh AaronMk]

Anywhere and everywhere.

It helps if you have a roadmap in mind already. I know what to do, roughly where it'll be headed, and some things that'll happen along the way.

[Todd Howard]

I posted me some garbage.

So hopefully you guys like dumpster diving.

EDIT: Fuckin' Gizoogle.

Raddum said
"Damn right. This place is dunkadelic, tha dopest place round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho

[Todd Howard]

Raddum said
Romt licked his fuckin lips all up in tha thought of some bacon, before shiftin his wild lil' fuckin eyes ta peep tha other posts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.

ohmygodIcan'tbreathe

[Strudel]

It sure does make it a strange story xD
The barponies speech at the end of my post sounds amazing after gizoogle.

Anyway, looks like it's just the four of us ^^

[Chapatrap]

Posted a...post. Not particularly happy with it but I need to get the bad shit out of the way before the good shit begins.

Strudel said
Anyway, looks like it's just the four of us ^^

I think there might be a few stragglers still coming.