PTFG Fallout Equestria - The Rubber Rat Race - Pony To Drone TF

 

Rat Race was a nervous stallion, he had been that way ever since he was born. Sadly he didn’t have the ethic of a farmer, or will of a mercenary, or the speed of a courier.

What he did have was a small, spindly frame that let him squeeze into the tight, cramped spaces of pre-war rubble.

 

And so, the albino little unicorn became a scavenger. He was a relatively good scavenger. It’s not like he could carry much, but he had a good eye and a knack for finding things that other ponies looked over. A pony’s name says alot about him, and Rat Races’ name described him well. It described his timid nature, his small frame, his willingness to work odd jobs, and most of all it described his special talent. Rat Race has a fondness for rats, rodents of all kinds really, and could vaguely communicate with the creatures. Rodents liked Rat Race, and Rat Race liked them.

 

This is to preface that the rats did not like the place Rat Race was going, and were desperately signaling for him to not go deeper into the Ministry of Magic facility. Rat Race huffed in response, giving a despondent wave. He could only huff through the bright yellow gas mask of the environmental suit. Supposedly the NCR had already cleared this place out, he had a gun strapped to his side, and he’d otherwise made precautions… worst come to worst he had a few ponies also scavenging the building that knew where he was and would come looking for him if something went wrong. He’d explained this to the rats before putting on the gas mask, but it didn’t seem to assuage them, and they’d continued to insist that he turn back.

 

So Rat continued deeper, squeezing his way through the walls of the building, the rats cautiously following behind. As he continued deeper the light on his helmet began to dim, after hitting it a few times it darkened even further… eventually burning out and leaving him in the dark.

 

After a few minutes in the dark, fiddling with the dead light, he sighed and illuminated his horn. It was an uncomfortable feeling, his horn was exposed through the suit but the rubber seal around the base of his horn meant that pushing magic into it required more force and was slightly uncomfortable.

 

The distracted stallion silently cursed as he wiggled his way through the wall, hoping to find some way out of the claustrophobic space soon. Thankfully he eventually found that opening, in the form of a decaying wall panel, which came disconnected with a few firm kicks.

 

Thankfully the room was illuminated by more than his horn, less than thankfully he had exited onto a catwalk standing over giant vats of mysterious glowing rainbow liquid. Odd considering that he had entered on a first floor, and had gone downwards still, but this seemed to be a well preserved sub basement.

 

“What the buck is this place.” Rat would exclaim… well, vaguely huff the words out the gas mask. The rainbow fluid was triggering some subtle alarm bells in his head, but at this distance it didn’t set off the magical radiation alarms in his suit, so he walked along the catwalk towards the stairs, the rats watching him from the large hole he left in the wall. He turned back to look at the rats as he walked, wondering for a moment if they were more wise than hi-

 

And a weak spot in the catwalk beneath him gave out. Rat Race scrambled to grab onto the catwalk with his rubber coated hooves, but it literally gave no help. The only thing that held him up, and just for a moment, was rusty spikes of metal tearing into the belly of his suit.

 

Drops of blood hit the rainbow goo with a violent boil as the rats ran away squeaking.

 

Rat Race continued to scramble, praying to whatever remains of Celestia as he slipped further downwards, large gashes forming in his suit.

 

As he lost any grip and began to fall he had a single thought *Taint was purple, rig-*

 

His world was flooded with pain as the impact of hitting the thick liquid from that height was like impacting concrete. This quickly morphed into a new kind of pain as the exposed parts of his body began to burn like fire. He could feel the acidic material eating through the rubber seal around his horn, bits leaking in even as it gnawed away at the sensitive ivory of his horn.

 

He was barely out for a second before he began to painfully rat-paddle towards the edge of the container. He could feel a wet squelching as he hoisted himself over the side, the rainbow goop having converted the outside layer of his suit into a sticky mess.

 

He impacted the flood with a wet, painful slap. The burning in his body only increased with every sweet-tasting breath. Rat Race stared up at the ceiling, wondering for a moment what death would be like before remembering that he was alive- and at least had some business to settle if he was going to die- or turn into a ghoul. He wasn’t entirely sure how exactly turning into a ghoul felt, but it was probably pretty similar to this, maybe it burned even more. It was also probably accompanied by the clicking of a magical radiation detector.

 

Rat Race barely had the chance to sit up before a loud cracking sound drew his attention, causing his suit-covered ears to twitch as he looked up at the rainbow colored sludge oozing out of the side of the container, caused by his banging against the weakened metal

 

Celestia was not smiling on him this day; And Rat Race found himself once more going through a baptism of rainbow sludge, acid seeming to seep into the very core of his being as he was showered.

 

The poor remains of the unicorn barely made it to hooves, stumbling painfully through the sludge and towards any hope of escape. He stumbled, weakly towards the edge of the pool, hearing the melting sounds of distant voices as the world began to fall apart into an infinite collage of colors and sensation. The unicorn wondered distantly what he’d say on the other side, collapsing weakly in a heap outside the sludge puddle. Distant voices blending between reality and hallucination as his ears swiveled.

Reality returned with the painful shock of cold water on your skin. You weakly shifted your neck, brain barely adjusting to the brighter environment you found yourself in .

 

“We expected corpse recovery.” You felt a gentle voice and a firm hoof on the back of your head, rubbing softly, “Or worse, but I guess that’s yet to see.”

 

You tried to respond to the mare, huffing softly, which caused her to rub more forcefully against your neck. The cool water continued to trickle around you, and eventually you slowly grew the strength to move into a sitting position. Drunkenly looking down you noticed that the taint had bleached your suit white. You’d attempt to blink but your eyelids were too weak, so you instead moved to look at the pony who rescued you.

It was an Alicorn, her horn was illuminating you and the area around you. You presumed you were still somewhere in the building, somewhere with an emergency shower.

 

“Do you remember your name?” The alicorn mare would ask, this time more softly.

 

You shook your head, still too weak to blink away the confusing question.

 

“Do… you understand me, little pony?”

 

You’d weakly nod this time.

 

The alicorn would slowly reach out a hoof, which you’d meet with your own boot covered hoof- it didn’t- quite feel like a boot though. It felt like it was part of your skin, and pushing harder you could feel the treads of your hoof as if they were part of you. Panic flooded your veins as you felt sick to what remained of your stomach, raising your hooves to paw at your gas mask, rubbing along the sensitive filters that were now part of your face.

 

The Alicorn’s magic flared and you felt a sudden tugging on your gas mask, causing a very painful sensation as if she was attempting to rip off your ears. You let out the closest huff you could make to a scream, which caused her to stop.

 

She turned the knob for the water further to the left with a flare of her magic, the flow of the water increasing as she scooted into the shower with you, pulling you into a tight embrace, “Don’t worry, little one, everything’s going to be okay.”

 

She petted the rubber mohawk on your head, once meant to safely contain your mane you could feel how it’d become solid white rubber. A soft groan came from your gas mask, causing her to slowly extend her wings and wrap them around you.

 

“Everything shall be okay, young Rat Race, your friends sent for us to recover you.” The mare would speak firmly. There was a haze of familiarity to the name, the concept of your friends, and the fact that an alicorn could come rescue you… but it continued to linger distantly, like the image of a city on a mountain, of twins on a flag.