Welcome to Stableton. Population: You [Closed] [Finished]

"Sounds good." Merle knew enough to try not to act too excited about the products while bartering. He suspected that he might not have followed that guideline too well. Nevertheless, four packs of radigator meat for a couple drinks and looking over a gun sounded like a good enough deal. The gun seemed like it just needed to be checked over, anyway; Merle couldn't see anything obviously broken. "The tavern's this way. Keep the packs until I've had a look at the gun." Not a bad idea to show a bit of trust. Besides, the griffon knew that it would be a lot easier to put off eating them if they weren't in his own pockets.

---

As the pair walked through the door, Merle looked over the ponies in the bar. There were a surprising amount of faces that he didn't recognize, though a few could have just been residents he hadn't met yet. "Do you want to head over to that booth in the corner, with the light over it? Should help me see, especially with the sun going down soon." As he began to turn to the bar, the griffon remembered something that could become important: "Oh, and what kind of drink would you like?" Taking note of the answer, he left to complete the first part of the trade.

As he reached the bartender, Merle saw that he was watching a couple of the newcomers, including the pony he had come in with. The shotgun on his back might have had something to do with that. It might be a good idea to diffuse the situation before it became a problem. "Just so you don't worry, I'll be checking over a gun in the corner booth. If it fires—and I don't expect it to—it will probably hit me before anything else. Anyway, I think I'll just have a glass of water and he wants—"

A deep thump interrupted his order and Merle ducked, indulging one of his recently-acquired reflexes. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't the shotgun," he mumbled, only partially to the other side of the bar. "Sounded larger, anyway."


((OOC: Feel free to interrupt anything in this if it was too much godmodding/glossing over your part; I just wanted to get us a bit closer to the current events.))

Please say no please say no plea- she said yes. Bakewell’s mind resumed its race, despite her earlier attempts to clear it.

“Super!” She exclaimed with as much cheer as she could muster when the Zebra accepted her offer.

Please don’t kill me.

Bakewell didn’t immediately voice a reason for Zestari to care about the pony’s possessions, though the mare’s mind quickly supplied a good handful of reasons. Few of them were pleasant.

Please don’t rob me.

Her eyes followed Zestari’s head as the Zebra began to rummage in her pack.

Please don’t rob me and then kill me.

Bakewell wasn’t quite sure what to expect when the Zestari revealed what the striped equine had been searching her pack for. Possibly a weapon, definitely not scented bags. The brown mare’s nose twitched involuntarily as she instantly recognized one of the scents. Cinnamon? Where had the zebra gotten such a thing? Bakewell hadn’t seen any of the stuff since leaving the vault and was constantly trying to find anything native to the nearby wastes capable of serving as a fitting and not-deadly substitute. Her mouth positively watered as eager eyes followed the bag. Where could Zestari have found this? Bakewell hadn’t paid much attention to culinary items while in the vault, but she was almost positive that most of the items, cinnamon included, had been artificial. Where did one even get natural cinnamon?

“Payment? Oh, yeah, sure… wait. Payment?! No. no no no no.” Bakewell lifted her front hoof and frantically swiped it back and forth in synchronization to her refusals. “You don’t owe me anything! Geeze, what kind of mare would I have to be to offer you something and then make you pay for it?” Bakewell, who had been hungrily eyeing the three spice bags ever since their first emergence, finally forced her gaze back to Zestari. The cook really wanted those spices, but she wasn’t about to get them in such a low way.

“I’d be overcharging, anyway. I know they say a mare’s home is her castle, but my castle is a shack!” Bakewell joked. The pony’s heart was still heavily beating inside her chest from the recent internal panic, but the fact that Zestari had been willing to offer something for the hospitality helped ease the brown cook’s nerves slightly. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If she got murdered and robbed in the middle of the night, maybe her body would smell like cinnamon! A much better smelling death than any the mare had imagined herself going through since the stable... died.

"its quite all right, as you see most people don't know about us. being a relatively new town in the wastes most dont even know we exist." she looked away from alexei and glanced at a drink next to her. "and if your looking for a job, im sorry, i cant help you there. i dont even know where the jobs in this town are, i just wander around, waste caps here or i go explore the wastes. need a job why not ask around, theres seems to be a pony around here who might want some help." She quickly downed her drink and lowered her head on the bar, motioning the barkeep for another drink.

"Well, I'm off for a little stroll. Could use some time to think. Don't worry, I'll be back to pay for my drinks. I was planning on getting a room here for a while." Alexei told the bartender before walking out of the bar.
After a few minutes of walking Alexei began collecting his thoughts.
"Wow, I'm feeling quite down again after hearing the history of this place. Haven't felt this crappy since the lab was wrecked. Maybe I might be able to find someway to help this place out and possibly get some neat tech in the process. I'll just have to che- Ok, I know I didn't drink that much." Alexei said to himself as he glanced outside Stableton to observe what looked like a dragon. "Right, back to the nice sensible bar for me."

Zestari cocked her head slightly as Bakewell waved her hoof as she declined payment. So Bakewell didn't want payment?

Then why would she tell me that her possessions were worthless then? Was she just trying to lower my expectations? Am I still mssing something here? Why would she think that would matter?

Her brow furrowed, well this was awkward, she had just totally misread the situation by offering payment upfront. With the bags still balanced upon her hoof, her eyes darted about the room in case someone had noticed her social faux pas, how embarrassing.

"I... see. No payment." She smiled, although it looked more like a grimace, and she slowly began moving the bags back towards her right saddlebag.

Bakewell tried to make a joke but it went right over the zebra's head.

"I never thought your house would be a castle," she ventured. "I guess I thought you wanted... Never mind." She looked momentarily stressed.

Now all the ponies in the tavern would think she was the weird, crazy one. This is why she avoided taverns. It didn't take long for a stranger to go from 'that weird zebra type' to 'she's putting a horrible zebra voodoo curse over the town'. She sighed and tried to refocus on the conversation.

"So... how would this arrangement work?"

Alexei walked back in with a slightly nervous look. He walked up to Sky and asked "Hey, Sky, was it? Yeah, I think it was. Now this might sound silly and maybe a bit far-fetched, but can you come out for a moment. I'm not sure if i'm a little more crazy than usual, but I think there might be a dragon a little ways outside the town. I don't want to cause a panic and you seem like the type to have experience with them. Not that there's anything wrong with dragons, but just a slight precaution. That's if there is a dragon." Alexei tried to put on a calmer disposition, but his nerves rolled a natural one. "Maybe i'm just overreacting and need another drink or two."

“What? No, That was a joke. A mare’s home is her castle? It’s an old saying. Get it? Hah hah? Ohh, you know what? never mind.” Bakewell struggled to save the situation before finally giving up on it. At this rate the sheer confusing social hurricane would kill the earth pony long before any knife. Even worse, She was convinced that some of the local ponies were definitely starting to look at the two with unwanted interest .

In the brown mare’s own mind, the situation was starting to seem more and more like a large bully teasing a poor foreign zebra before finally swindling the town’s striped visitor out of her possessions and sealing the deal by making her life a living Tartarus every night. Bakewell’s voice, while still cheery, took on a much more down to earth tone.

“Well, first of all, you don’t owe me anything.” The cook said, emphasizing her words with a small hoof stomp. “No payment, no favors, nothing. Second: You’re welcome to stay however long you want, but it’s just a small building with two doors and no windows, so you probably won’t want to do much other than sleep there. There is a bed. It’s old but functional. You’re welcome to it. I used to sleep over w-“ Bakewell suffered the slightest twitch in her right eye as she abruptly cut off and restarted her sentence.

“I used to sleep on the cold metal stable floor a lot when I was younger. Sleeping on my hut’s wooden floor is no big deal. I do it for fun sometimes. Third: I do most of my cooking in someone else’s establishment, so I don’t have any super neat cooking instruments, but there’s some wood and a place for a fire and a big pot that I sometimes use for personal food. You’re welcome to use it for ”A dismissive hoof wave“ whatever, really. I also have like three old crates you can store stuff in if you need to. I almost never use more than one of them at a time. Fourth: If at any point you need assistance with anything, just let me know. I’ll be more than happy to help you. Also, don’t worry about hurting my feelings or anything. “ Bakewell paused to take a deep breath, before breaking out into a grin and allowing her voice to abandon any it’s seriousness.

“Fifth: Don’t look so upset. I’m fine, your fine! We’re all fine! Show me a smile, the biggest you can! Pleeeaaase?"

"im sure your overreacting, but i have seen a dragon around here once before. If he is still here then he cause you no trouble, only if you don't anger him." Sky said with a grin in here face. "just don't fret over it, he is a nice guy and if he comes this way just don't get scared. he doesn't mean any harm."

"Wait, you kill raiders? Well in that case, you're a-ok in my book. Sorry if I might have sounded a bit rude. I just have no experience with dragons, except for stories about how well they fight. To be honest, you're the first dragon i've ever seen in person." Alexei's initial worries quickly faded away.
"Hey, barkeep! How about a drink for this fine lady!"
Alexei turned back to the dragon as he floated a glass of bitter towards her.
"What's your name by the way? Also, i've heard dragons tend to have gemstones on them. Do you happen to have any prismatic or frost gems on you?"

Zestari cocked her head slightly as Bakewell tried to explain the joke before dropping it. Her home is a castle? No, I don’t get it. Perhaps she’s pointing out the irony that her house is in fact far from a castle? Yeah, maybe that’s it. I’ll go with that.

Bakewell began to list off things, and Zestari listened intently.

“Well, first of all, you don’t owe me anything.” Zestari disagreed. But figured it would be best to deal with later, she didn’t want to re-open that whole issue again. She gave a simple nod as Bakewell continued.

Bakewell listed off the second item and Zestari raised her eyebrows in sudden epiphany. Ahh, so that’s why she mentioned her lack of possessions! She only has a single bed. Surely that could be remedied, though! There must be a pony around here that’s handy with tools.

She watched as Bakewell twitched just the slightest, and her mind snapped back to the conversation. Sleep over… what? Walkways? Windows? Was that even something you could do in a stable? By Bakewell’s reaction the zebra figured there was probably something more to it, but opted to file the question away for later.

Bakewell moved onto the third item. She had a fire and a big pot, Zestari’s eyes lit up. Add in a little zebra chanting and she would be right at home. She smiled slightly at the thought. Bakewell covered the last items. Storage; fine, that could come in handy if Bakewell was being serious about the access to the hearth. And to ask for assistance at any time if required. Got it. Zestari nodded again.

The final request. Zestari paused. Could she do it? She was still a bit frazzled and this was a big ask. She wasn’t sure she happy, pleased maybe, relieved; definitely. But Bakewell’s face, and that request, ‘Pleeeaaase’.

Alright. She was going for it.

The corners of her mouth turned up; that felt good actually, and slowly spread across her jaw. A few moments later her lips parted into a broad grin, and shortly after that was positively beaming. Bakewell was right, everything was fine!

She interrupted her grinning for a moment to say – almost as an afterthought, “One thing, I refuse to take your bed. You have already opened your door to me; there is no way that I can accept you also giving up your bed.”

She resumed her grin, “But thank you so much!”

Sky stayed silent, watching as the unicorn and the dragon converse. She quickly glanced at her drink, and sipped from it as she watch both continue on .

Bakewell’s own grin somehow found room to widen even farther across the pony’s face as she momentarily pranced in place. You just couldn’t hate a proper and happy smile. Zestari’s’s honest grin quickly gave the final push required to send Bakewell’s thoughts of robbery and harm at long last plummeting into the abyss of forgotten concerns.

“No problem at all!” The earth pony smiled with a dismissive wave of her hoof. She was determined to eventually convince Zestari to use the single solitary bed, but such issues could wait until after super happy smiling time was over.

“Hah! Walk into a town and get a free home-away-from home within the first day! How many other towns can claim that kind of hospitality?” Bakewell laughed before remembering the Zebra’s track record with jokes so far, and adding a wink. “I’m joking, of course. I’m sure there are many towns with much more generous citizens. Now how about I buy you a dri- oh, actually I don’t have any caps with me at the moment. Guess I forgot! I’ll buy you one later, if you want. Do you even drink? I don’t, but most ponies seem to.”

Trails sat down at the bar and guzzled down a few shots of whiskey. His skin still itched from nicotine withdrawal but at least he wasn't thirsty anymore. Ever since Rodeo had cleared him out he'd been struggling with both his addictions. He savored his last shot, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing it. A gaggle of ponies were gathered in the bar, Trails raised an eyebrow at the couple of zebras in the group.

He got up and sauntered over to the group, deciding he was in a sociable mood now. "Anypony got a smoke I can bum? I'll buy ya a drink or give ya some radigator, whichever you prefer."

Sky ears perked, somepony wanted a smoke in exchange for a free drink. Sky looked through her saddlebags rummaging around until she found it, one pack of cigarettes, unopened. 'yes, free drink here i come.' she quickly walked to the other pony and held out the pack of cigs. "this what you looking for?"

A halo of light surrounded the pegasus as she held out the pack of smokes. Trails felt a tear appear at the corner of one of his eyes and heard angels sing. He snatched them up and lit two at once. He let out a sigh of sweet relief and jerked his head to tell the mare to follow.

"What'll you have?"

Sky looked at this pony, she could have sworn she saw a tear appear in one of his eyes. "ill take the drink, if you don't mind."

Bakewell joked about her hospitality, the joke once again flying over Zestari’s head even after Bakewell pointed it out.

“You’d be surprised, actually.” The zebra responded, placing a hoof on her chin in brief consideration, “Most places I’ve been to so far either only care if you have caps, something to trade, an arsenal of weapons or simply refuse to let you in regardless.” Her smile returned, “You’re the first to offer me lodgings. For which I am deeply appreciative of.”

Zestari nickered slightly as Bakewell offered to buy her a drink. “No, I don’t drink.” She looked about the room, “Drinking such brews appears to be the refuge of the sad, those that have lost, or those that have something to forget.” She shrugged, “I have no interest in such stuff. Besides, there are far more effective methods of losing one’s self.”

She turned to rummage in the right saddlebag, “I do have some tea, though, if you’re interested?” The sound was slightly muffled by her face buried in the saddlebag, “It’s come all the way from my home, and there’s not much left, but I’d be honoured if you’d share some with me.” She brought a bag out, it was similar to the ones she had shown Bakewell previously. “If you’re interested, of course, and assuming we can get some hot water with minimal radiation here.” She glanced over towards the bar. “Or we could go back to your house and source our own water.”

“What, really? The first? Wow, tough wasteland.” Bakewell muttered in disbelief, though the mare guiltily remembered that she probably wouldn’t have offered her home either, had prior events been slightly more thought out.

Bakewell’s ears drooped slightly as she listened to Zestari’s opinion on heavy drink. “Refuge for those that have lost, huh?” The earth pony frowned slightly in thought. What does that make me? What does that make anypony that doesn’t drink? Lies? Traitors to the rest of the town, somehow gaining something where everypony else lost everything? Have we simply found a better way? Do the happy really belong in Stableton, a town founded because of a mass geno- ooh, tea!

“Sure!” Bakewell agreed, ears perking back up in an instant. “If you have enough, I mean. Same goes with the water. I don’t have any caps to buy any with, but I can pay you back if you do. Or we can do the other thing, I have absolutely no idea what you mean by sourcing our own water, but if you know how and want to do that, I’ll trust you to know what you’re doing.”

During the town construction, Bakewell had mostly handled work with very basic construction, salvaging, and heavy lifting. She had not started really learning cooking and survival until months outside the stable. She had always just bought her water because shops with lots of caps had to be prospering shops, right? She certainly her little town’s shops to prosper!

Trails looked at the mare stonefaced. She can't be serious. But she seemed serious enough. He shook his head and face hoofed. Stable ponies.

"What'll ya have to drink?" he mumbled, being careful not to drop one of his twin cigarettes. Maybe two at once wasn't a good idea.

Sky looked at his surprised face, as if she hadn't had drink before. "An Apple Cider whiskey and if you don't mind me asking. why do you look so surprised?" She had noticed his face as she told him, even almost dropped his smoke.

Trails walked led the incredulous Pegasi to the bar. He thumped on the top and dropped a few bits to pay for the drink. He walked over to the Griffon he'd left his shotgun with, eager to recover. With his nicotine withdrawal taken care of he was itching to get back out in the wastes. His skin crawled as he realized just how small the bar was.

"How you coming along?"

She saw Bakewell’s ears droop slightly, as she repeated Zestari’s words about drinking. She raised an eyebrow, had Bakewell lost someone? Zestari supposed it wasn’t unusual; it seemed everyone had lost something or someone to the hostile wasteland. Still, she supposed she could have been more considerate, she didn’t know Bakewell very well, after all. She made a mental note to apologise over tea.

Zestari smiled and excused herself when Bakewell agreed to take tea with her, “I’ll be back in a moment!” She made her way to the bar to see if she could get some water.

She waited politely for the bartender to finish serving another pony before he turned towards her. She asked after water, and coughed with surprise at the cost the bartender charged for it, more than twice that of his alcoholic swill, and as Zestari counted out and passed over the caps, the grubby bottle he handed back hardly filled her with confidence at the quality of its contents.

She begrudgingly thanked the barkeep, grabbed a couple of dented, and what she hoped were clean mugs, and made her way back over to Bakewell.

“Now we just have to heat it.”

Bakewell smiled thoughtfully and eyed the bottles of water as Zestari returned. “You know, sometimes I really miss the Stable’s water.” She commented. “Also: the floors. The stable had much cleaner floors than anywhere in the waste. Well, maybe my room didn’t, but for the most part everything was cleaner.” The pony chuckled as she reached out to help Zestari carry the mugs.

“He wouldn’t heat it for you? Talk about rude. How much did he charge you?” Bakewell asked, making a mental note to pay the zebra back for the water as she examined one of the mugs critically. The dinged up mug certainly wasn’t what she would call clean, but she could probably say that about just about anything in the tavern. She wouldn’t, obviously, but she definitely could without being dishonest.

“I don’t have much experience with Zebra stuff. Is there a preferable way to heat the water? I’ve heard that you have to do some sort of chant and dance, but I’ve never heard actually heard an explanation from a zebra about it. No offense if it’s true, but I’m a bit skeptical. Many outsiders seem pretty biased against zebra, and pegasi, for some reason.