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

Dash listened to the griffon and the earth pony talk about what had happened during the battle which had ultimately destroyed the town around them. Why some of the things happened in the Wasteland simply evaded Dash's understanding. He sometimes wished he could be around to help the side of the righteous in times such as those, but he knew that in few of these situations would his presence and efforts would have had any impact.

Ale listened to the story being told by the large griffin, he didn't really care about the fate of the town he knew it was far too late to change anything about it. When the name cross was mentioned his ears perked up. "Wait, did you say cross roads?" Ale's mind was racing, he'd heard that name before, exactly one year ago. "Cross was the one that hired my caravan to bring weapons and medical supplies to this town. I always thought we were just unlucky to have run right into the slavers, but they must have been waiting." Ale's voice was starting to build in anger. "We bought quipment right to this towns besiegers." Ale walked right up to kes and asked, "Did he die in that battle? Because if he didn't i'm going to find him, get the other half of the caps we were to be paid on delivery, and then i'm going to hang him by his own stupid red cowl."
The white unicorn was practically spitting fire at this point.

"He survived the battle..." Kestrel started looking down at the pony before him. "...but he no longer walks the wastes. My Hellsing's first taste of blood came from his heart. He was the first to die in my hunt."

As he finished the tale his mind wandered to the various trophies, both calm and grotesque, he'd collected. Returning them here would let the spirits know they'd been avenged.

Rookie, now collected with both of his thoughts, headed back to the group by the start of Stableton, the now destroyed town. Kestrel was explaining just for that moment as he arrived, about some sort of pony being killed by his unique weapon. He can understand the sentiment, and had a feeling somehow that this griffon didn't kill without reason. "I was trying to defend Stableton also." Rookie said, looking at the brown Khan earth pony. "Lets just say that i got sucker hoofed in the face because i stayed to fight. And i caught what you said earlier, Trails." The no wing pegasus said, finishing his words and looking at the ruins. He also caught the earth ponies name in the earlier process. One way or another, something brought them here for a short time. "I'd like to see this town's ruins start over again." His tone of voice displayed his emotions about seeing this town start bustling again, but that door was quickly shut out.

Even at times like these, fitting a walrus in the bottle and hoping it doesn't scratch it is one thing, but fitting a lion...

Definitely another.

Dash gritted his teeth when the griffon said that he had hunted down and killed the traitor with the Hellsing, which he could only assume was the strange gun he had with the arrow-like bolts. He could only imagine right now what it was like to be shot with something like that. Although the grounded blue pegasus nearby knew exactly what it was like, and he couldn't say that it looked like it was an enjoyable experience for him.

"Well..." Dash said, still a little timidly, although his voice was gaining confidence as he got to know them all better, "I,uh... I guess Wasteland Justice is better than no Justice."

Ale smiled to learn the fate of cross. "Good, i hope it was bucking painfull." then he walked back to where he was standing before and looked to the dark pegasus that still seemed to be shaking in his hooves. "Wasteland justice is the only justice out here. Theres this thing out there know as karma, in the end everpony gets what they deserve, be it you, me, anypony. We all get for what we give." Ale held a hoof up to his bandaged eye, letting out a groan of pain as he did so, it was starting to get irritated, he'd need to change the wrappings soon. "karma has kicked my ass on more than one occasion, hell I bet trails here was sent by mrs K to even out a bit of it." Ale smiled a bit at that idea, if it was true then the universe probably owed him something at this point.

Rookie then noticed something that he should have noticed before. It was stupid that he hadn't. He walked a little closer to Ginger, looking at the bandages on his eye that was damaged. "Huh. Soon your either going to need an eyepatch or a tech eye. Trust me, they are not all that EMP-weak as one would might think." He said, commenting on Ginger's eye situation. He then walked back a few steps, giving Ginger back his personal space. Seems like everyone here has been in one tragedy after another.

"Wish I could say I was surprised, even a little bit. But Tenpony doesn't make good ponies." Trails sighed. "Glad you got him though, fucker deserved to die at the hooves, or talons, of a Stableton veteran."

"He was not the only one to fall. It took a year, but I managed to hunt all of those responsible for the attack. They too are dead." Kestrel finished serenely. He wasn't bragging about his actions, one should never brag about their kills. No he was simply stating facts, as he always did. He took no pleasure, or remorse, in delivering what was still grim news.

Looking up to the sky above Kestrel made another, final, statement. "We should move soon. It is rude to waste time in a place like this."

Zestari remained quiet as most of the rest talked, she felt she didn’t have anything of value to offer to the discussion as it was anyway. And merely remained still, giving death glares at anypony who was foolish enough to enter what she considered her personal space.

Otherwise she was content to listen to what had happened to the major perpetrators of the miserable event that took place here the year past. Until the white unicorn said something that made her jerk her head slightly.

Looking at Ginger she gave a hollow laugh. “Karma, justice, honour.” She stepped forward. “You think it is as simple as karma?”

“A pony’s baser mentality screams for vengeance and thrives on the violence that they say they can hardly endure. You think it is a question of karma, of justice, even honour? That you should always fight with honour, but to always fight? Do you care about karma, or do you use karma as an excuse? An excuse to exist in a violent world.

“We are all constantly fighting for life. Every breath, every motion brings you one instant closer to your death. With that kind of heritage and destiny, how can you say that to yourself? How can you expect yourself to give up simple violence?

“It is your nature.

“So don’t stand there and hide behind words and beliefs; instead strive for your next breath. Believe that with it you can do more than with the last one. “

She stepped backwards and in murmured in a lower voice, “But don’t try and explain how things happen as being left to fate or attitude.”

"Tech eye?" ale said confused at first but then soon realizing rookie was talking about the headlight he had in his head. "Oh celestia no, I really don't care for one of those. I already have one thing on the side of my face that could get me shot I don't need a night light to add to that." Ale's eye was starting to burn at this point and he need to take care of it right now. "I need to change the wrap anyways so I might as well show you what I mean." Ale started to walk over to the fountain, he suddenly stopped when the zebra started to mock his beliefs. He turned to her and gave a simple reply, "How can i give up simple violence you ask? Easy, good karma is the only reason i'm alive here today. The universe takes note of good deeds done and rightfully rewards those who do them. Of course I wouldn't expect you to understand." Ale stared right into the zebras cold eyes. "Judging by your attitude, you've never done a good deed in your life. You keep trying to fight the universe, stripes, the universe is just going to fight back. And trust me she can throw a lot more punches than you ever could." With that ale returned to the business at hoof and walked to the fountain. Once there he sat down and began to fish out the items he would need for his eye.

Dash narrowed his eyes when he heard the zebra talk about a pony's 'baser mentality', it offended him to the point where he ignored everything else and spoke up as soon as he could, "A pony's baser mentality!? What do you even know about ponies, zebra..." Dash spat, "It's BS like that which has destroyed everything, but I seldom would have expected that it would have erase somepony's memory of history! This was once a land of light, happiness and harmony, until the Zebra Empire decided to ruin it! That's what you're really thinking of, a goddess-damned Ruin! I know what my nature is, and from the sound of things, it isn't ANYTHING like yours! So don't you dare try to put thoughts in ponies' heads!"

Kestrel analyzed the situation silently from his place near the rear of the group. Figures the children would be unable to play nicely...they never did. For all their talk of morals, codes, and ideals they failed to see that their bickering was rather disrespectful to the spirits here...Kestrel could almost feel them frowning at the action. This whole thing, so disrespectful.

Not to mention pointless.

Ideals were too open a thing, much like religion or politics to be debated. To many ways to interpret things, to many conflicting opinions. Kestrel was no genius but even he saw the foolishness of these systems...the flaws that would forever permit their failures. Individuals had the right to choose, and once they did they either held fast to their beliefs with iron grips, or let them change like the waters of a great and flowing river.

Kestrel himself followed the later path personally. Fluidity was an invaluable tool in this place. Most never learned to harness it as Kes had though. A few core values made up the basis of his Way, but most were fluid and ever changing. Nature had taught him much in the last year about himself, and about his place in this world.

"Hold thy tongues, for you argue fruitless things. Beliefs often ring true only to their believers, and can change as quickly as the tides. What is righteous truth to some, is unspeakable heresy to another. The zebra has her way. You've yours. He's his. I've mine." Kestrel said motioning to the zebra, unicorn, pegasus, and finally himself with a nod before continuing.

"You sit here arguing with the minds and temperaments of angry children, fighting over a piece of shiny scrap. It is both disrespectful and pointless." Kestrel spoke again looking them all over, his gaze as frigid as the Void itself. His voice had never wavered from its signature, nigh unnatural serene calm. There was no anger in his tone, no malice, or disrespect. Just calm confidence. But his eyes...his eyes told any perceptive enough to read them that he was not approving of the current situation, and that heeding his advice may just be the difference between life and death.

"We stand on a ground well soaked with blood and battle. Give the spirits their earnings and let them rest here, in peace, for now. Do not mock them by debating the actions of those that brought about the destruction of two once great empires."

Ale rolled his eyes, "Great, now scarface is going to start spouting poetry." Ale started to think about something he read in a book once, an old buffalo shamen that changed the world with his poetry, Shakes his spear, thats what his mane was, yeah the griffin sounded a lot like that.

Ale took out the last of the supplies he would need and began the long and arduous process of cleaning and changing the wrap. Ale untied the cloth and removed it from his face revealing his eye and the brand that had been burned around it. The brand was that of a pair of shackles, this marking was used to forever mark a pony as property and if one is found outside the fillydelphia area with this mark then they will be in constant danger. Anypony with slaver ties would go out of their way to try and capture them, slaves like ale were highly valued and usually worth enough caps to warrant any danger. ALe felt confident around these ponies though, if they fought in the battle this town suffered then he doubted they would be willing to sell anypony into slavery. Ale's eye's was that of a milky white, all of color was absent from his iris.

Ale discarded the old cloth into the old fountain and used his teeth to tear a fresh strip from the rag he had been using. Next he took out an old eye dropper he found in a ruined drug store and filled it with some purified water from the bottle ale had taken out and proceeded to clean the bacteria from his eye. Ale winced in pain as the water made contact, "shit i would kill for some painkillers right now."

Trails groaned a little as the conversation turned to idealism. He didn't much care for religion, seeing it as something to hide behind whenever confronted with the awful truth of your own inadequacy. He chose to make himself adequate instead, making his own merits larger than life and enough to stand on without the trappings of ideology. He was not, however, foolish enough to act as if religion was powerless and something to be ignored. All symbolism was important, ponies needed something to rally behind. For some that was a goddess, for him it was the flag of the Khans.

He searched for a way to say as much, but decided not to waste his breath trying to argue with this wretched lot of rag tag malcontents. "Let's just drop this ideological bull shit for a bit, eh? It's getting us nowhere. Now I don't know about you but I don't think all of this fighting is very 'respectful' and I'm starving. We can talk more when the foods on." He added as he started pulling a bundle of wood from his saddlebags.

Rookie, despite him not trying to do anything and stay out of the whole argument between everyone, almost shook his head and started arguing with the red bun head about his eye. It only had three red dots at the bottom of the tech eye. In fact, it didn't even show the red dots. It was extremely dim. The other thing that's interesting is that it can switch to thermal vision, spectral vision, and other things. It was meant for a replacement for war veterans. He watched as the red bun head, one he nicknamed Princess Leia, as he walked a bit and removed his bandages. To say that Rookie wasn't surprised would be the best guess he ever made. He watched as the zebra explained a few things, not exactly listening to whatever she was saying. Whatever he caught, he couldn't make sense of it. It was then that they truly started arguing, bringing the zebra war between Equestria into the mess. "Ugh, Luna." He said, obviously annoyed by the constant bickering these idiots had to offer. "You guys, just stop all the darn arguing. We already have enough racism as it is in the wasteland." He finished, but it was right about at the end when the griffon decided to put the whole conversation into a full stop.

When he looked in the griffins eyes, they were cold. They displayed barely any, if at all, emotion. It struck him right in the face as he listened to the griffon. He could understand, very quite much. He now knew exactly how he felt about it all, the bickering and idiots crying here. He wasn't keeping his emotions like the griffin, not as much. It made him shiver as he thought that he wanted to kill them all just for being...disrespectful. He had to admit, he couldn't know every single word ever spoken in the history of the whole world. He really needed to start scavenging for a dictionary. That would help. Rookie shook the thoughts mentally out of his mind as he listened to the brown earth pony talk. He seemed to be one of the prime authority figures with how most of the conversation stopped instantly as he showed his disapproval of the whole scuffle.

The same thing was with the griffon, although to a lesser extent. He noted how Princess Leia was doing so well with the griffons attitude. If the griffon got pissed and Rookie knows that it would be slightly hard, there would be a few casualties among the floor. He wasn't afraid of the griffon, in fact, Rookie slightly understood him. The large amount of scars over the griffons body, some hidden by fur, some weren't, showed that the griffon had experience. A lot of it. Rookie walked back a few steps, doing a slight wave in the griffon, Kestrels, direction. It was a sign that he was welcome here. He then turned to the brown earth pony. "I admit, i am feeling hungry. I have enough supplies in my saddlebags to make a good meal if anybody wants to join me." Rookie said, and walked along the destroyed defense of Stableton, not very far from the group's location.

He started setting up the fire with a tarp above it so the fire is dulled. It was going to be a small while before he could start the fire up successfully without rousing attention from any other ponies or griffons in the distance. He promptly wondered who was going to join him as he attempted to start up the fire.

Ale soon finished cleaning his eye and began to put away his supplies. He emptied the contents of the eye dropper into the old fountain and drank what was left in his bottle of water. Wrapping the fresh cloth around his head ale felt a million bucks better. He leapt down from the long forgotten watering hole and made his way over to the fire rookie was making. "Sure, I could go for a nice hot meal." ale said to the grounded pegasus. "Figured who better to share dinner with than a fellow cyclopes." Ale stepped under the tarp and began to dig into his saddlebag for what little food he still had. After a moment he pulled out a can of peaches and began to open it. He didn't want to entirely mooch off of rookies hospitality but at the same time he lacked the supplies to make an entire meal for himself, at least not enough supplies on his person. He was sure that if he was left to dig through the remains of this town ale could find a box or two pre war cakes, maybe even a sparkle cola, but no everypony else in the group has already stated that scavenging was a no-no. And of all the things that could happen to ale tonight the least of all he wanted was to get shot by that scary metal launcher kes was carrying, he remembered what it did to the blue pegasus merc, and it did not look fun.

Kestrels gaze did not waver for a while as he stood therem listing to the others finally get some sense and calm down. If the unicorn's comment about his method of speech had upset him, or even phased him at all, the mask wearing predator wasn't showing it. Internally, Kestrel was just remembering all the times that he'd heard that in the past year.

He'd stopped counting around a thousand.

He was well aware of the fact that his method of speaking, whenever he did speak that is, was rather strange. But really what bout Kes could be called normal? The massive griffon had always been an outlier amongst even his own kind, as had his father.

Seeing Trails starting to pull out a pile of wood Kestrel decided that maybe a meal would not be such a bad thing after all. It'd been a few hours since he'd last eaten, and he did need to finish up the meat from his last hunt.

He'd just turned to go off and make his own fire elsewhere when the wingless pegasus from before waved him over. The young buck would be dissappointed for now however, as Kestrel only shook his head respectfully and moved away from the others a good distance.

Pulling out his own supplies Kestrel started up a small fire and began to cook a quick meal. A hearty soup of somekind it would seem, filled with all the essentials; and a healthy supply of some kind of meat.

Checking the soup Kestrel noticed he had a few minutes to himself before it would be done. Add on the time for his drink and it would be a few minutes more. With a fluid transition Kestrel reached into his cloak and pulled out a few things. The first was his Hellsing, which was set respectfully before him. Work on the lethal rifle would come later for now he was going to preform something a bit more basic.

Sharpening the bolts of steel it fired.

Alongside the weapon Kestrel had pulled out a quiver of sorts filled with various bolts and a small conical device. He'd gotten a mechanic to make it for him out of an old Universal Sharpener he'd acquired after a mission a few months back. The decision had been worth every cap it'd cost. Stabbing the small spike into the earth a few inches, Kestrel grabbed a bolt from the quiver and inserted it into the newly revealed mouth of the device, carefully starting to twist and apply pressure to the shaft of the bolt.

The bolts themselves were rather unassuming looking. One side sharpened to a razors point, the end being flattened so as to catch the air coming from the pneumatic system on the Hellsing itself. About a foot long each they were intimidatingly simple in their design, and as the shot earlier had proven terrifyingly effective at doing their job.

The miniature spear made a sandy sound as it ground into the walls of the enchanted sharpening stone, the metal burrs and excess mass about its tip falling off and collecting into the spike/cone's body. Every so often he'd pull out the bolt and empty the cone of metal shavings then he'd check its tip with a talon. When it drew blood without effort Kestrel set the bolt aside and drew out another, starting the process again.

It was a sacred task to Kestrel; caring for his weapons like this. One that he enjoyed, one that brought with it a delightful haze of peace and meditative trance.

To the outside world Kestrel would seem distracted, eyes focused on nothing in particular and ears slightly relaxed but still held upright.

The fire started crackling almost instantly, the old tricks the stallion had mastered still working beautifully. Unlike the isolationist gryphon Trails decided to make something everypony could enjoy, and enough to leave himself a healthy supply for a few days. After a few seconds of slapping together a tripod from tentpoles in his saddlebags he left the pot of chili to boil. The only thing left on his agenda while dinner simmered was rolling a smoke and maybe getting back to finding out who the hell he was sharing dinner with.

"What's your story, Bottomshelf?" Trails asked, pointing to Cuppa.

Cuppa quietly stood there, occasionally taking a sip of brandy whilst several of the others continued their arguments, all trying to get the last word in, it made her grin a little and chuckle. Suddenly, the decision to eat came up and Cuppa raised a brow questioningly whilst Kestrel went about making his own food and Happy Trails seemed to be making a lot, maybe to share, maybe for later.

And then he started talking to her, asking about her "story". Levitating her hat from her head as well as floating out a blanket to sit on, Cuppa set the brandy next to herself and put her thoughts together. "Well, ah'm guessin' yer askin' 'bout after the battle. So, that's whut ah'll tell ya." She said, taking a pause for any reaction he had before starting again. "After draggin' mah sorry hide back t' New Appleloosa, ah chose t' stop bein' a dedicated medical pony, didn't see the point when ah could just carry some healin' potions 'round."

Pausing again and swigging the brandy once more, Cuppa then continued. "Ah decided t' get muhself some guns an' start huntin' down small-time trouble makers, drag 'em in fer caps, or kill 'em if tha's whut was best. Ah gots more guns, started drinkin' t' try an' find summint else so ah didn' have t' think 'bout the battle. An' now, ah'm here, one year it an' ah'm mostly jus' lookin' to say a lil' piece 'bout it all an' then get back t' muh 'job'. Doin' what lil' good ah can manage fer ponies is tirin'. What 'bout you?"

Dash saw the griffon decide to move away from the rest of the group. Despite his mortal fear of the creature, Dash felt compelled to perhaps inquire about the skills it took to hide as well as griffon had. Dash had honestly not perceived the griffon's form as something that even remotely resembled something living. Since it seemed like everypony else was settling down, for... something... Dash decided to go talk to the griffon, pushing aside all manners of fight or flight reflexes and urges.

Dash went over to the griffon, "Y-you're good at sneaking, yeah?..." Dash said, "How did you... you learn?"

For a good long while Kestrel sat their silently, sharpening his bolts, and staring into the distance. One...two...three...four, and still no reply. Upon picking up the fifth, Kestrel spoke. A single, calm word escaping his beak before he started grinding down yet another bolt of lethal alloy; his unsettling eyes flicking over towards the young buck beside him.

"Practice."

"I decided to go out to New Pegasus, finally see that side of the wastes." Trails began, starting to bowl out the chili. "Help yourselves. Found myself in need of somepony in my corner pretty quickly, the entire desert was in a rapidly heating up war. I chose the underdog: the Great Khans. At first we were just holding together with determination and luck, then they put me in charge of a few combat ops. It took about three months after that to turn the tide, then after that it took all of six months for us to become the dominate force in the desert." Trails finished his story and started digging into the chili. He'd gleaned over the details, not really interested in breaking down into every damn one of them at that second.

Rookie looked at Ginger Ale, hardly giving him a glance, however. The fire barely started, and then it simply went out. He tossed some unimportant papers in the fire, but it didn't start up. He simply sighed before starting to go back on it again. His ear's picked up on only parts of the conversation a short ways away from the fire he started. "So, Princess Leia, how are you doing today? Friendly fire mood?" He said, not even looking while he talked. He attempted to start the fire again, but it declined. "Damn thing." He said, muttering it under his breath.

Dash nodded when the big griffon simply said practice. It was how he had gotten the skills he had so far. He could only hope that he'd get better than he was was right now. He wanted to be able to potentially pass down some good, refined skills down to his foal when it was born, "That would do it, I guess." Dash said, "I sort of wish my father had trained me more in it, I nearly lost my brother to slavers because of it... But I did what I had to and learned what I had to, and I got him back. It's a happier ending than most here, in the wastelands..." he said, then looked around at the town, "If I could have been here to help, I would have."