And All You Could Have Been (Social, Wild wasteland)

Dash was starting to get a little worried from all the shouting that was going on, he wanted to help out but he wasn't yet all that sure if he wanted to come out of hiding yet. One of the ponies looked a bit like a Khan. He began creeping forward through the ruins. He wanted to get closer so he could properly hear what they were saying. He took cover again at a distance of 75 meters. He peeked out at them once again, but didn't bring up his rifle, wanting to avoid scope glint.

(Sneak 70, Perception 6)

Kestrel kept still as possible as he continued to watch the others. The mare from earlier, who was currently in possession of his bolt, was staring at him again. He could feel her eyes upon him, unknowing of the danger in the shadow.

He did nothing.
(Rolled D10 + Perception. Roll was 16)

Behind him he heard the signature thud of hoof-falls. Someone else was coming, and trying to sneak at that. Judging by the sound Kestrel guessed that the pony was smaller framed than most, probably a unicorn or pegasi.

So another player joins the stage? He'd have to work on his sneaking however. Time to see how the others reacted to a new addition. As Kestrel waited he began plotting out how he was going to get his bolt back. He didn't make a habit of leaving the things strewn about the wastes. That would have been wasteful.

Trails spun on his hoof to look down the alley. He didn't see the formless monster that the alcoholic mare seemed to. Probably just the result of too much cheap booze frying the mind, he'd seen it play out any times in the Mohoofe. What he did see was another pony, this one trying, and failing horribly, to remain hidden. Tiring yet again of the idiocy at display he decided to dispense some more wisdom.

"You there," he called. "I see you. Quit being a peeping tom and live life for yourself. The world is amazing and there you are standing like a brain dead goat with your hoof up your ass."

A wave of pain went through ale when the khan hit him, his hoof had struck right were the branding scar was and it stung like a bitch. Ale held his tongue though, he had a feeling this earth pony could break him like a twig if he tried to talk back. Instead he took a moment to reload his revolver, it never hurts to keep your weaponry fully loaded, and went with the cowgirl pony in search of where that damn bolt came from.

(Perception - 7, looking for source of hellsing bolt i.e. kes. Can decide results.)

Dash froze in his place, his heart nearly stopped beating, but only for a split second. He then leaped up several feet into the air, his Sniper Rifle flying from his grip as well. Both he and the gun were then overcome by gravity and both fell to the ground. The Sniper Rifle hitting stock first and clattering to the ground after bouncing a few times and Dash landed heavily on his hooves, failing a few times at grabbing the rifle from out of the air. He quickly snatched his rifle back up, feeling like a total idiot, "W-what..." Dash whispered to himself. He slowly put up one of his hooves, not unreadying his rifle, however, "I don't want any trouble... I was just... Just curious."

Kestrel watched as a fly landed on the tip of his mask, walking about and buzzing annoyingly. It earned a slow blink then a quick exhale before it took flight and wandered off into the wastes again. He couldn't afford to move now, not with all these ponies looking towards him.

The Earth pony from before had just called out the new comer behind him. His theory was proven correct, the pony was male, and sounded like he was some kind of Pegasus. You could always detect those sort, typically high in tone, bit more jumpy than most.

Kes had killed enough of them to know that much.

Unlike his alley-partner Kestrel managed to keep his cool and remain unseen...if only just for now. If the stallion behind him would move forward and the others would turn around again Kestrel would be free to sneak away. Till then he just sat there, as still as death itself, Hellsing ready to fire.

Like a predator waiting for its prey.

Sky looked on to the ponies as she just watched them all do the random stuff as she just lay watching from a nearby broken down frame of a shack, her assault rifle which has seen better days was on her side with a sling as she moved her back to get switch it for her sniper rifle. Getting a scope to see things through as she just looked on to the ponies argue as she just sighed and watched them.

"i wonder what they all are here for, probably just some scavengers." Sky said to herself as she was in cover of the building, only to not see much.

Trails groaned internally, he was tired of these ponies who all seemed to have contracted a terminal case of bitch. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious what drew all of them to this ruin. He couldn't pretend to remember everypony he fought with that day, it'd been too long. Only flashes of a few notable faces. A big black gryphon who fought hard, a couple medics who earned the name 'hero' for staying with their patients till the end, and a hoof full of raiders still on his shit list. That was all.

"Well then join this impromptu pow-wow we seem to've got going over here." He called to the pegasus, starting to trot towards them down the alley. "Hold the fucking phone, how bucks are in this place?" Trails sighed as he saw the outline of a giant ass gryphon skulking in the shadows. "Eveypony, and gryphon, put the luna damned guns away and let's act like we've said hello to somepony before."

"Not bad, pony." Kestrel thought to himself as he began to move. To the others that had not yet noticed the massive creature, it would look like one of the walls of a nearby buildings was coming to life. Powerful muscles bunched and twisted as Kestrel moved to stand on his feet, standing at his full impressive height. Even Trails, the largest pony there, was just barely able to reach his chest/lower shoulder.

Dash, the one closest one to Kes would no doubt be the most intimidated. Kes had appeared from seemingly nowhere, and Dash had been standing right next to him. All it would have taken was a twitch and Kestrel could have killed him.

Kes's face was hidden by both his mask and his hood, disallowing any of the gathered to see his features. His size and shape alone however was probably enough to show that the Griff was not something to be messed with. Any that knew his reputation knew that under the heavy cloak was an arsenal of weaponry. Luckily for them Kestrel seemed to be in a non-homicidal mood right now, and he wasn't reaching for any of them.

He just stood there holding Hellsing at the ready. 7 Sharpened bolts of steel glimmering faintly in the light. Each ready to penetrate or kill any of the ponies standing before the griffon. At first he didn't seem willing to put his rifle away, eventually however Kestrel moved to secure his rifle once more. Brushing his cloak out of the way for but a moment as he pushed the rifle into his holster.

It locked into place with a nigh inaudible click.

Raising his head slowly Kestrel stared out at the others, revealing his frigid golden gaze. He took his time studying them, this being the first time he had the opportunity to do so today; mapping out any potential weak spots. Scenarios ran though his mind of how he could escape if need be. Of how simple it would be to pull a blade from his side and butcher the pony next to him. One move, thats all it would take, one simple fluid motion. Then Dash's throat would be open and Kestrel would have a lovely shield.

He had no reason to do that however. This ground had seen enough blood. Enough death. Unless these ponies gave him no choice, he would stay his blade and bolts from further violence.

Catching motion elsewhere Kestrel moved his head to face this motion. There, about a hundred yards away Kestrel locked eyes with a pony he eaisly recognized. Sky had returned...and she still looked like a slaver.

Dash raised an eyebrow when Happy Trails mentioned a griffon, wondering who he was talking before it happened. Dash's limbs locked up, even his breathing stopped as what he thought had just been another piece junk on, or a part of, the wall, started moving. The creature rose and for a moment, Dash forgot that the pony over there had mentioned that the creature he was seeing was probably the griffon. But it hardly mattered. The creature before him may as well have been a demon from some twisted Outer Realm.

Dash's pupils went to pinpricks as he beheld the massive griffon before him. He couldn't even begin to think about how strong the griffon was, and how he had been able to hide almost right under his nose. In those moments, the griffon could have killed Dash in any conceivable number of ways, what with Dash just sitting there, gawking at him, "I..." was all that Dash was able to work out for the moment.

Trails stubbed out his smoke and trotted over to the ruined fountain in the old town center. He sat on the edge and looked up at the sky, trying to decide just how to play this. The gryphon was familiar, a chat with him might be nice, the others were complete mysteries. After taking a swig off his flask he looked round at the gaggle of ponies around him and cleared his throat.

"Guess it's about time we started explaining." He pointed at Flash. "You, Nancy, what's your story?"

Lightning simply remained quiet, especially after this new brown earth pony came and yelled at him and the white unicorn. Feeling the health potion slowly take it's effect, he got up and walked over to his .45 pistol, not caring for what the others might do. Luckily for him, he picked it up and holstered it without an issue.

The pegasus perked his ears and turned when the earth pony suddenly yelled at another pony in the area, a black pegasus. Well, how about that? Not very many pegasi in the wasteland so this was definitely new. Lightning also caught a new griffon that seemed like he suddenly morphed out of the wall. He recongized that griffon easily as Kestrel, the griffon, without a doubt, was the one that shot him with the bolt. He simply shook his head and turned to begin walking away until suddenly, Trails addressed him and asked for his story. Pausing, Lightning didn't say anything at first but then he turned around, "I was a pony that fought in this town. Fought for it's defense and failed. That is all you need to know."

Trails nodded at Flash curtly, saying, "I imagine that's true for a lot of us." He then pointed to the next pony in his line of feigned interest, Dash, and repeated himself. "Chickenshit, your turn."

Dash had finally managed to get over himself and slowly, cautiously made his way over, passing the huge dark griffon, despite how much he really didn't want to leave his back turned to him. He then blinked when Trails addressed him, calling him 'Chickenshit' He at first didn't believe it, and actually looked back to see if there was any pony else behind him. There wasn't. Great... Now he seemed like an idiot. He looked back to Trails, who he KNEW looked like a Khan now. He wasn't so sure that going over was such a good idea now, "Well, I was here a few months back... Everyting was mostly the same as it is now, so I left... I... I just wanted to see a bit of the world before my marefriend had our foal."

As ale peered into the alley the first thing he saw was another pegasus "Great, more flyboys." he groaned "now we just need some enclave soldier to show up and we'll have a full set." However this pony did not look like the source of that metal spike, unless he was some kind of expert javelin thrower. Then he noticed something in the shadows, and trails was yelling at it. When the shadows started shifting ale raised an eyebrow at the new creature taking shape. Judging by the cloak and fancy rifle this must be the shooter.

When the new arrival finally revealed himself ale saw the wings and the beak like mask, his eyes widened and ice filled his veins. "No, impossible!" his mind was screaming. "That bird is supposed to be dead!" He fumbled at drawing his revolver and it clattered to the ground drawing the griffon"s attention. He stared right into the griffon"s cowl, unable to see his face and boldly asked, "How are you still alive, why do you continue to haunt me!?"

Trails was about to ask Ale, who he'd mentally named dipshit, why he was haunting the ruins of Stableton, but the unicorn interrupted him by shitting bricks at the sight of the gryphon. Now that the bird was in plain view the buck's memory recalled seeing him at the battle. They were one of the few fighters on the town's side worth a damn in the fight, taking down the raiders' heavy hitters. He couldn't help but think if he'd been on the front lines with him, the battle might have ended differently.

Why Dipshit was freaking out at the sight of them was anypony's guess. He resisted the temptation to start smacking the ginger off the buck and instead chose to keep the calm and collected facade running. The act was getting old though. If this was the mohoofe he'd have shot him by now, nice and simple. But no, needed to keep a good image for recruiting.

"Woah there, let's keep the drama on the stage." He said in his low rumble of a voice. "How's about our gryphon friend here explains a few things, eh?"

The Battle of Stableton. He had long gotten over it now, even though he had no family members anymore. Rookie was one of the many ponies that were afraid, as any soldier would be, but given the fact that they weren't soldiers, they likely did the best that they could in the battle. The general of the whole army destroyed the town and some went out of their way to enslave some of the residents. Rookie was one of the ponies that were enslaved rather harshly. First thing the raider, or slaver, that caught him did, was cut off his wings and remove his cutie mark. Most ponies would have screamed, and he definitely did as it was being broken off his body. Then, to add more pain and keep the pegasus from bleeding out, the slaver grabbed a burning piece of metal from one of the destroyed Stableton building, and burned it and put it into stubs. Some others were captured as well, most he tried to help by giving him his food but once the slavers caught him doing it, they punched him and did other horrible things to the other slaves. He wanted to retort and tell them that he did all the wrong things but he would probably be hurt even more. He still didn't want to think about it.

The group and the slaves from Stableton headed towards a slave settlement of all things. It was filled with slaves and raiders alike, and they took weeks to head there. Most of the slaves had already been killed due to them trying to run away, fly away since some kept their wings, and the natural, attack the slavers and give the others a chance to run away. Rookie's spirit had already been crushed as the last attempt happened, causing most of his enslaved friends to die, almost nearly with him. The same slaver that had taken his wings, kept the horns, tails, and wings of the dead slaves in his saddlebags. Rookie often peaked in there and got a first hoof look on the stuff. It was gruesome, the bone still in the wings and he even caught his own wings in there with his own two eyes. He was often butted out of it or a horn shoved in his face. There, the game started. Rookie managed to sneak a bobby pin into his inventory, by hiding it under his skin since the slavers usually check everywhere. He had to move awkwardly for a long while until his opportunity finally presented itself. The opportunity in question was a broken bridge.

The bridge led whoever followed its path to the slaver place. But now that it was gone, they had a take a few more weeks going along the other path. His sister distracted the raiders at the cost of her life, which went against Rookie's plan. He undid his hoof bindings when he successfully picked the lock using the bobby pin hidden under his skin. It took him a while to get to the bobby pin but he eventually did. The hoof binding was made from steel apparently, and then Rookie was forced to run away on his hooves, rather then his absolutely destroyed alternative: flying. Rookie was chased by his slaver "friend", which was named Sad Smile. As he made his way through the area, it was a game, you see.

A game of cat and mouse for a while. Rookie hid, Sad Smile searched. But his intention was to kill the pegasus for what had happened. They had two last slaves, some Rookie couldn't have been able to help to get out. That being said, he was looking to save his own hide. He knew it was wrong, but with his sister now out of the picture it was only him now. Eventually, the slaver, Sad Smile, found him. Most of Sad Smiles guns had degraded enough that it was broken or that there was no ammo for it due to him firing it off. The two were forced into melee battle, and after a few minutes, Rookie was forced to the ground and stuck there as Sad Smile tore out his left eye. Rookie then overpowered the slaver and killed him. He was forced to make an eyepatch out of a patch on the slaver's armor. The no-wing pegasus took the armor off the slavers body and took the other saddlebag containing the good stuff, not the limbs of the many ponies they had killed. He thought that was reckless. At least he would have brought in more alive then dead.

Rookie walked for days on end, going on the slaver's supplies. He had to use some of the drugs in the idiots inventory to keep him going. Then, he found another town. New Appleloosa took a long time to get to, and it was harsh for him. He resupplied using the caps found on the slaver and got proper treatment for his eye. The once enslaved pegasus picked up prewar dye, dying his coat brown so he couldn't be recognized as easily, and getting a better eyepatch. It wasn't exactly an eyepatch per say, it was more of a eye replacement. Thanks to a ghoul coming in to town with all sorts of odds and ends, along with the ghoul having much technical know-how of the old world, Rookie managed to pawn the rest of his items to get something better. A prewar cybernetic tech eye, not unlike the glowing red ones, of the like on Red Eye. This one worked like a charm, offering some protection to the eye socket and giving him an almost entirely new look.

Cutting his hair by himself and pushing it back, he looked like a new pegasus. He still had his hat and he didn't get face surgery to look different like a exactly new pegasus, but he knew he would look almost unknown to the other ponies. Realizing that his whole family was gone took some time. He had to mourn, he had to get more well equipped. He realized he only had the armor on his being now. Given some measure of help by some of New Appleloosa, he was off to go again. It took him a full year to get over all this. And here he was now, on a tall rock overlooking the ruins of the home he tried to help make. It turned out that after all, after all that hard work helping everypony out, it was for nothing. Sure, some new colts and fillies got to be born there but that was only temporary. Rookie looked down, and made his way down using his hooves. He missed his wings, but not as much as he missed his sister. He accepted her death a year ago, but the past still wanted to punch him in the present. He decided to come here to see what was left of it, but watched the whole scuffle of idiots arrive there going to do the same thing.

For some reason, he just wanted to kill them all. That thought was dropped almost immediately, he never wanted to become a raider or a slaver. But the thought of these idiots fighting for a moment and meeting together again to walk through the ruins and destroy them even more due to their recklessness, or perhaps fight more if the situation demanded it, hurt him. Sure, his wings were ripped off so he looked like an earth pony. Sure, his eye was cut out, sure, his flank's cutie mark was cut out. He recovered from all that, but the mental scarring was still there. Including the physical. To think that some of these idiots would fight by one of the broken down hopes of the wasteland, a place filled with history, angered him to no extent. Thankfully, a brown earth pony was stopping the idiots from continuing further.

Rookie started closing the distance to the ruins as a pitch black griffon revealed itself. He honestly wasn't afraid of him like most of the previous living resident's of Stableton were. He finally arrived at the situation, watching them for a moment, then replying. "You are all here for the same reason, i assume? Come to see a destroyed monument of hope and remember how good it was back then? Yeah, me too." He said, and moved his head away from them...to the ruins of Stableton. "...Once was a good town." His voice didn't hold sympathy or pity, just plain emotionless. He personally knew this was the time to not show your emotions, but to keep it inside you for a time. Once he was alone, he would let it all out. But for now, there were ponies here.

The griffon stared at the white pony as he drew his firearm, watching it clatter to the ground harmlessly. He'd noted that dispite having a horn the buck had chosen to use his mouth to draw the weapon. Strange. Perhaps a previous injury prevented him from doing so? Horns were common targets for sharpshooters and melee combatants alike, and Kes had heard rumor that if healed the wrong way the senstive magic granting spires could cause pain to the user should they try casting.

Only way Kes could know for sure was to either test the buck in combat, or ask. Luckily he did neither.

No, Kestrel just stared at the stallion with an impervious mask of serene calm. As if the threat of being shot was nothing more than a mild inconvenience passing on a breeze. Something to be ignored or forgotten.

The Khan spoke next, once again acting as impromptu leader of this little gang of ponies and asking Kestrel what his story was. The past year had done little to help Kestrel's trust issues, and looking about at his current company Kes honestly could say he was not going to be trusting any of them anytime soon.

He was in the middle of contemplating a response when he detected yet another new comer. Watching him march down the alleyway towards the gathering of ponies, taking the time to repeat the same study he'd given the others before, Kes remained silent.

False eye, easy target for electrical impulses. Scarring along the flank, lithe build. Seemed more pegasi than earth pony. The scarring looked like Slaver work.

The pony's rather cocky assumption to Kestrel's purpose here was rather far from the truth. Kes was here to tell the spirits of the town that vengeance had been taken and that they could now rest in peace. He'd then leave and most likely never return. His fate was not here in the ashes of a ruin he fought to defend once, it was out there; in the wastes.

Looking back over at the Khan Kestrel broke his silence. He presumed much by calling Kestrel a friend. Very much indeed.
The griffons voice matched his appearance perfectly as he spoke. The tone and sound something like a low mix of a growl and a monotone; delivered in a serene calm that was unsettlingly dissonant to the surroundings and situation. His response simple, yet open to interpritation.

"Ask what you will."

Trails looked over to see the newest addition to their little gaggle of a memorial party. He waved the pony over as to tell them to join before responding to Kestrel's 'answer'.

"Honestly I don't have much in the way of questions for you, just figured I'd give you the chance to explain that you're not what Dipshit here thinks you are." Trails let out a sigh and turned to the ginger unicorn. "He was on the right side of the battle, one of the hoofful of fighters worth their salt on Stableton's side. Whoever you think he is, whatever you think he's done I can tell you he aint it. I can also assure you he isn't dead, seeing how ghosts don't fire bolts into random pegasi."

Ale looked back at the khan and then back to the griffin after a moment ale's horn lit up and he yanked back the hood to reveal his face. He doubted such an action would be approved but he needed to be sure. When kestrel's face was revealed ale let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "I-I apologize for that, personal demons, nothing you should concern yourselves with. If ya'll will give me a moment, I need to sit down." Ale calmly walked around the corner, out of the sight of the others and fell on his haunches. "Idiot." he told himself as he leaned against a wall. After almost a minute of staring off into space ale reached into his saddlebag and retrieved an item that has sat in there for a long time, a griffin's skull.

[Flashback: Battle of stalliongrad]

"Kill those tin cans already!" A gruff earth pony sergeant yelled as enclave troops descended upon the unit ale was assigned to. All around him his comrades were being slaughtered, the superior weaponry of the pegasus enclave killing soldiers by the droves. Ginger ale was doing his best to fend off the attackers but his lack of AP ammo was spelling death, he occasionally got a kill when his shots hit a weakly armored portion of their suits or when they were being accompanied by other bullets from his fellow ponies, but is wasn't enough, soon they'd have to fall back.

As ale yanked out his current magazine to replace it with one that wasn't empty an enclave trooper landed in the window he was stationed at, plasma stinger primed and ready to kill. Ale jumped back and drew his revolver but the bullets just bounced off, doing nothing. Just as the unicorn thought he was about to die, salvation came, in the talos of the devil. Bone head, a griffin raider who hunted ale and followed him to this battle, tackled the the trooper and once pinned began to tear the pony apart with his razor talons, coating his feathers in a fresh dose of blood. After his deed was done he rose and turned to ginger ale, "Careful there gingy, don't want you to die until I get a chance to try." The bird smiled and flew back out the window. "You're not going to get one." ale said under his breath as he ran to the window, a freshly loaded rifle at his side. He took careful aim at the departing griffin and fired.

After the battle ended and the smoke cleared the ruins were filled with bodies one of those being bone head's. Ale limped over to the fallen bird and began the slow and argues process of removing his head. This action might have seemed gruesome but to ale it was justice. This fate was both ironic and gave him a sense of closure, he's seen this bird die before so many times only to have him appear again later, even more hell bent on ending ale's life, he needed something he could keep, something to remind himself that this griffin wouldn't be hunting him any further.

[present day]

Ale's memories were abruptly ended when he suddenly heard a voice behind him ask, "what's that?" Ale quickly shoved the skull back into his saddlebag before standing and turning to see who asked the question.

Kestrel didn't even flinch as his hood was yanked off revealing his masked face, head, and neck to the others. Kestrel's reputation of wearing scars was proven ten fold as his full appearance was revealed. Rough, smooth, jagged, and straight, all manner of scar marred him. His health coat of black and grey feathers A few stood out however.

A long jagged series of scars ran down from Kestrels unmoving jaw, across his neck and towards his chest. The bunched skin was still reddish...a fresh scar it seemed. Whatever had caused it must have been powerful. And how Kestrel had survived a hit like that was anyone's guess.

One of his ears was missing a bit of its tip, and one could see along the back of his head a few large crude scars. They looked like claw marks of somesort.

Seeing the jumpy unicorn start to walk away, Kestrel took the time to fix his cloak. The buck had just yanked it down and it was bunched up wrong. A flick of his powerful neck and the hood was fixed enough that Kestrel didn't notice its weight anymore. He saw no point in putting the hood back up for now...the others had already seen him. It'd be up to his mask to keep his identity a secret for now.

Just like it always had.

The mask itself was worn and weathered to a heavy degree, a few marks from stray bullets or blades etched into its surface. Still it held fast, its securing strap no worse for wear. It had been build to last...just like its owner was.

Cuppa, having been waiting for everything to die down again, slowly took a sip from the brandy that Trails had given her, giving the Khan a small nod of appreciation before she turned her gaze on Kestrel. He looked more heavily scarred than she remembered him to be, he must've been through quite a lot in the past year.

"Kestrel? Boy, ah've not seen ya fer a long time." She said before looking at the bolt she had held in her magic field. "Uhh... Is this yers?"

Dash patiently sat and waited, he could only guess the ponies and others before him would probably shoot him if he tried to slink away, so he figured he'd stick around as long as it kept him in good standing with the others.

Flicking his gaze to the side Kestrel gave a silent nod. Reaching over to grab the offered bolt. He gave no thanks, offered naught but a grunt as he pulled his Hellsing free from its holster. With a fluid, practiced motion he slid the bolt into the only empty chamber on the rifle; before once more securing it. It had no use for now.

Great now Dipshit's gone and decided to have their period. Why in the name of Luna's flank?!

"Don't carry around a skull with you." He rumbled. "Skull make poor trophies for three reasons: 1. they can easily be crushed after being removed from the body and left for an extended period of time, 2. they take up the space of several better trophies, and 3. they are only properly used when on existential crisis. It's important to note that only mares have existential crises."