Prologue
You're probably wondering… Who am I? And why you're bothering to read my story if it ever survives longer than I do? Well… to be honest if you're gonna ask me then you came to the wrong pony for that second question, as for the first I'll get to that in a bit. Though what I will say is that I was in the exact same situation as you with that second question more times than I can count, "why bother?"
It turns out that one thing everypony underestimates these days is the ability to make our own decisions. For example; the choice of waking up early or sleeping in for an hour or so, to help somepony or to help yourself, maybe even to decide who lives and dies. The more burdening of these choices I've had to make more times than I'd like to remember, at times to the point I'd happily use one of my bullets on myself.
Nowadays though? Such decisions need to be made all the time yet years ago before the bombs fell such thoughts would only occur within the minds of guards, emergency crews or those having a REALLY bad day, now though you'd be lucky to step a hoof around a street corner without making such a decision. So yeah, if you have a gun when you're reading this I'd double check you at least have one in the chamber, no telling if somepony might be sneaking behind you. But anyway, I've postponed with paranoia and memories long enough, time to answer that first question of yours.
My name is Delta Hooves, I'm a 19 year old green Pegasus with a cutie mark that pretty much was the insignia of a Special Forces attachment that used to be in my Stable. As for me, I'm… well… I WAS a guardspony back in Stable 50 just outside Ponyville, never heard of it? Well I don't blame you, if you'd go anywhere near it's site now you'd probably get radiation poisoning so bad you'd get just about every form of radiation illness in less than a minute without Rad-away. Though it's probably for a good reason because what happened back there would make you question why? Just… why? Though I should get into those details in a bit when you know more…
Firstly I should tell you a bit about Stable 50: The stable itself was set up amongst the hills that overlooked Ponyville, or y'know, what's left of those Raider infested ruins, such a shame, I heard it was such a nice town before the bombs fell. But anyway, yeah, Stable 50 was one of the more isolated Stables but in this one we included both Equestrians and Griffons that were able to get here in time long ago. However while they kept us under the same roof you'll learn pretty quickly that it only seemed to make things feel worse. Every day for the guards there our jobs turned more and more from security to Law enforcement as we were hooves at their necks and their talons were at ours.
Speaking of which my final days there would probably be a good start as to start telling my story. Remember what I said about choices? I'll be making a fair amount of them in what you're about to read... We all have stories about our times in the Wasteland, this is mine as it started a good few months ago…
Fallout Equestria:
Choices