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PrinceBlueblood

Senior RP Staff
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PrinceBlueblood last won the day on July 17

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About PrinceBlueblood

  • Rank
    The Once and Future Prince
  • Birthday 07/28/1991

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  • Gender
    Colt
  • Location
    Maryland
  • Interests
    Books, games, and general internet doings

RP Characters

  • Main Character
    Prince Blueblood
  • Character 2
    Earth Writer
  • Character 3
    Feng Yinhaitao
  • Character 4
    Wordsworth Psmith

Role Play Information

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    rackenhammer
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    rackenhammer.deviantart.com
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    PrinceBlueblood #8840

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  1. That newest thread......hmmm....

     

  2. Well, this was turning out to be a most interesting visit overseas for Fēng Yīnhǎitāo. The sort of interesting that was probably implied in the proverbial curse from his far eastern homeland. Not that this visit had been at all unenjoyable, far from it! He'd come here to represent Long Guo at the Annual Iron Pony Event and win glory for his Empress, and that he had certainly done, if being crowned the Iron Pony was anything to go by! That level of concentrated athletic exertion had taken its toll on him, though, leaving a deep sense of exhaustion in his muscles that extended rest would need to cure. On top of that, his free time was pretty much all taken up with turning strangers into friends, which was almost equally taxing and rewarding to his primary mission. Ponies like Tempest Shadow and Sunset Shimmer might not have been the easiest mares to get along with, but he sensed them to be the sort of friends that one ought to cherish. And he ought to know! He'd come over with a friend like that, Yanhua the head Imperial Chef and fellow Long-Guo Representative. The qilin, in addition to putting in a respectable performance herself, had regularly cheered on Feng in his events. Honestly, he'd felt a little bad about ignoring her during this trip, and thus had sat out the last event to cheer her on from the sidelines. He had to admit, she put in a performance on the rock wall he didn't think he could have matched. But he was distracted from her prowess by something else, what looked like some kind of magical transformation from a qilin into something decidedly more... vulpine. The fact that Yanhua immediately fled the scene, not even coming back to receive her medal, was what tipped him over the edge from concern to outright worry. He needed to track her down, and being a stranger in a strange land, he wanted to get some local help. It was a bit of a pity, then, that the two ponies he knew best here weren't exactly Ponyville locals either... "Thanks for helping out here, Tempest." He remarked to his fellow-searcher, trying to betray neither his creeping dread nor exhaustion.
  3. Hearing about ESP's reminded Feng of stories he'd heard about some of the legendary followers of the Harmonious Path. Supposedly pursuing ascetic discipline could grant preternatural powers of perception. The longma himself was fairly skeptical of these stories, however; never having met such monks himself. Plus, there was the tale of his great uncle who had literally starved himself in pursuit of said powers, without any kind of result. "That may as well be." He shrugged. "Sharp eyes and educated guesses do a good portion of that for a long sun, or a pony, in my experience." The newcomer mare and Tempest seemed to be getting along fairly well, which was good. Not that the longma could empathize much with their desires to stay away from Ponyville, he was having a great time here! Though, if their experiences here were anything like what he felt at the thought of visiting his home village... yeah, he could understand that. At the mention of the late Emperor, Feng's ears perked up again, and he replied. "Oh, the old Emperor died shortly after I began my training; I don't know all that much about him. His daughter, though...." His eyes grew clouded with a dreamlike gaze, and he sighed. "...is marvelous." The poor boy was clearly lovestruck, which lent credence to the fact that he'd been sent overseas to save face in the court of the Dragon Throne. Romantic musings were cut short by Tempest's offhand mentioning of a scuppered intention to invade; the burgundy mare was something of a buzzkill when it came to romance. Still, probably for the best that Feng sobered up ASAP. "Oh, well, we certainly do pride ourselves on our forces, and I think justly. There is also the matter that such an act of aggression would have incurred the wrath of the heavenly dragons upon your heads as well. The king of the long is a personal friend to the Empress, as well as a longstanding ally." Taking a quick check around, he noticed the pavilion seemed to be emptying. "I think the next round of events are starting up soon. I plan to compete in several more, and cheer on my friend Yanhua when she competes as well. She's been a fantastic supporter so far. Would you like to come along, grab one last drink before the round?"
  4. PrinceBlueblood

    MLP Creature

    Snek is cute
  5. Whether or not the final truce had been signed, Fēng was at least sufficiently at peace with himself not to mind sudden assumptions on the part of foreigners. All the less so, since his eye, which don't forget was that of a trained Watcher, had caught the fact that Sunset felt his remark to be extremely apropos to her. Small wonder, then, that she thought of it as 'mystical.' "Oh, I'm more of a warrior than a mystic, if you must know." He replied with a shrug and a grin. "Though the Empress says I can be unexpectedly wise. Mostly comes from the fact that there's not much to do when laid on your back in the infirmary other than read and think!" He laughed, though the commonplace way he took that occurrence spoke to either the danger of his profession, or his recklessness in pursuing it. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, as they liked to say around here.
  6. **Submitted for Judging** Feng had sat, for some time, off to the side of the event. Not because he planned not to participate; oh no. The Empress had bid him to make a showing in all events, or at least to ensure Long Sun representation in all of them, and neither he nor Yanhua had swam in this river yet. Nor, really, in any river. Growing up in his home village, all the swimming holes were large, mostly placid pools that mountain waterfalls emptied into, and of course the palace had its own artificial pool. But striking through the raging current? Not part of his upbringing or training. This could well prove the most difficult of the events he was to take on, hence his pause to study the previous competitors and their methods. *So, we can expect river beasts, rocks, and masses of plant matter. The Current is strong, too; both the strange long and Finnie had to spend some time and effort to swim against it, three times across as well.* He didn't think of himself as a better swimmer than either, so his body couldn't be used to push any kind of advantage. The only edge he could muster would be his tactical mind, searching the grounds and stated rules for any technicalities that might be pushed to his favor... *Aha.* Inspiration struck, and with a grin, he scampered down to the starting line, presenting himself for the challenge. "And now, fillies and gentlecolts, it's the Eastern Wonder, Fēng Yīnhǎitāo!" Eastern Wonder? Well, that was new! Feng couldn't say he minded, though. And the announcer even got the inflections right on his name! If that wasn't good luck, the longma didn't know what was. Taking a deep breath, the newly christened 'wonder' dove into the river at the farthest upstream point marked out for the starting line, striking course for the far shore. Not a straight course though; the essence of his plan was to allow the current to carry him, at least a little bit, so as not to spend too much energy fighting it. He had to minimize distraction, though, for this gambit to work, as if he slacked off too much , he risked getting swept away! Fortunately, holding back to watch the previous two competitors had at least let him know where the rocks were, allowing him to kick off the formations to give himself a little extra boost as he passed. The first leg of the lap was done quite quickly, though it put him at the furthest point downstream still in legal bounds of the event. Without pausing, he hauled himself onto the far bank, ran along the edge to the farthest upstream point, and dove back in. This causes a small amount of shock and discussion among the judges, but they eventually had to conclude that they hadn't forbidden it in the event rules, and it wasn't as if he was cheating in the spirit of the event, either. He would still swim all three legs, but his time on shore would count towards his total. Feng was banking on the saved time and effort from his diagonal swims being more than what he lost on the runs. Time would tell! The second leg was a little trickier than before, as he hadn't studied how it would be to face the same obstacles in the opposite direction. He nearly missed getting caught on the tangle of branches, and the less said about the poor striped bass he kicked in the gills, the better! Nonetheless, his tactic served him well enough on the way back, and he once again hauled himself up, this time pausing to breathe before scampering back upstream to dive. The third leg was the worst. Oh, sure, he knew the obstacles backwards and forwards by now, but his limbs and lungs were beginning to ache. It was a tough swim, on top of the fact that he'd participated in literally every other event before now! Each push off the rocks, each pull of his leaden hooves, strained Feng's body more and more, to the point where the rescue pegasi were literally hovering over him as he struck the downstream shore, struggled up, and lay on the banks panting. "That might... not have been... a well calculated... tactic." He muttered to himself between great shuddering breaths. The thought of pushing himself into one more event just seemed impossible to him now; he'd probably just end up cheering his friend Yanhua through it. Empress knew he probably owed her some support after all that she'd shown him over the course of the Iron pony...
  7. *Submitted for Judging* For the second time during this event, Feng Yinhaitao was facing the challenge of competitive food delivery. Unlike the obstacle course, however, this event was focused more on endurance than finesse. As for the foodstuffs themselves... *What even are these?* The longma poked at the canvas sack of potatoes, frowning at the rustling of the tubers. The plant was not native to the eastern continent, and did not feature in its cuisine. Growing up as a mountain villager, Feng had of course been raised on a plain vegetable and wheat-noodle heavy diet, but his current life in the Imperial Palace had an undeniable sophisticating effect on his palate. Being friends with the chief cook didn't hurt either in that respect. The loud whump of the previous competitor hitting the turf woke the longma from his reverie. It was time for him to ready himself. He hoped his body was up for it, after having given his all in six previous events already. But what sort of Imperial Watcher would he be if he couldn't push himself to the very limit for Empress and Empire? Glory wasn't going to be won by sitting around! Huffing out a misty breath to cool himself, Feng shouldered his burden, and trotted to the start line. Bit a tricky job to balance the load, but it didn't seem too onerous a burden... "Next up, Feng Yinhaitao! Ready, set, go!" And he was off! Not at top gallop, obviously, but at a respectable speed, nonetheless. For the first fifty yards, in fact, Feng felt that he had to actively hold himself back to keep from tuckering out prematurely. *Pacing, remember, pacing. Don't blow away your energy all at once, now...* This self-discipline was almost as heavy a burden as the potatoes, which past the one-quarter mark of the dash, began to feel heavier and heavier with every step. Each time Feng's hooves hit the ground, it was as if one more small redskin potato was added to his sack. Eventually, as he began to approach the flag marking the halfway-point, these all began to add up. *Think of the Empress, Feng, think of the Empress. She wouldn't have you quit halfway. You can do this, she believed in you, remember?* It was this self-same refrain which he'd summoned when things had gotten tough before, and as he rounded the flagpole, he felt his mind returning to it again, as the soreness crept up his hooves, and the burden weighed ever-heavier down upon his back. Neither process held up during the second leg; the pain and the load seemed to increase at a steady pace, wearing down further and further upon the longma. Sweat condensed like morning dew upon his brow, dripping into his eyes and stinging. He blinked, repeatedly, trying to hold on to a mental picture of Yu Yue to counter-act all the nerves in his body screaming at him to stop this madness. By the time he was half way back to the starting line, the mental exercise was becoming too taxing for him to keep up. It was all he could do to have his brain keep telling his hooves to take one more step, let alone keep a competitive pace! Saltwater-stung eyes desperately searched for an energizing sight, and found... Yanhua. His friend, who had accompanied him across the sea and never failed to cheer him on. That was enough for a few more steps. The Imperial cook, who could no doubt turn these dubious tubers into a dish worthy of royalty. That was enough for a few more steps. A mare who he should probably carve out a bit of time out to thank properly for her support. Another few steps. Tasty potato dishes. Good friend. The thoughts alternated, each pushing his left and right hooves in tandem until he finally made it back to the finish line. He didn't collapse immediately; he had in fact almost forgotten it was an athletic event at all. His thoughts had been so narrow focused that Feng practically convinced himself that this was a potato delivery to the Imperial Kitchen, hence why he allowed his momentum to carry him almost to the bleachers before he face-planted in front of the one containing the Qilin. "Thefe fur oo, Yawah." He muttered from the dirt.
  8. Feng took a seat in front of Tempest, indicating he was ready to listen and speak as long as she needed him to. "You're welcome!" He replied to her unpracticed gratitude, in a tone that indicated frequent and easy use of the expression. Besides that, though, he was quiet enough to let her speak, and what was perhaps more important, struggle through the choking silences. Getting up only to fetch two cups of water, he gave one to the mare and sipped on his own before speaking. "I see you view your past like I view my ancestors." He said at last. "I left my home village very far behind, hoping to escape from their legacy of failure. But wherever I was, there was always one longma who knew who they were and how likely I was to end up like them." His muzzle curled into a somewhat ironic smile. "I could hardly leave myself behind, you see. And thus I could not escape my past, there was no option but to wrestle with it. And maybe, perhaps, come to a peace with it at last. I cannot say that I have, though, yet." It was about here that Feng noticed another unicorn mare approaching, one which unbeknownst to the pair of them, could probably speak quite eloquently to the subject at hoof as well. In any case, sighing a bit internally at the loss of privacy, the Watcher greeted the oncoming Sunset with as much politeness as he could. "And I suppose you could sympathize as well? It is a hard thing to have one's past as an enemy, yes?"
  9. Submitted for Judging Ranged weaponry. Feng pursed his lips as he surveyed the target range; this was not his specialty as far as combat training went. Not that he gave his initial academy sling training anything less than his all, but he might have let himself get the slightest bit rusty since then. Hey, a Watcher couldn't be good at everything, and he'd chosen to specialize in close combat. It's a pity that the Iron Pony didn't have any martial arts events. *Perhaps I should have a word with the organizers about next year...* Well, they weren't likely to take him seriously if he didn't take them seriously, and that had to include this event. The longma deferred the offered sling and ammo, choosing to use his Imperial-issued gear. He tested the suppleness of the leather, grateful at least that the material hadn't stiffened from disuse. There was a little bronze seal of the Jade Throne on the outside of the pouch, which he polished against the hide on his withers before trotting up to the line, loading one of the polished bits of stone into the pouch. He warmed up with a couple of practice shots towards the cardboard cutouts, instinctively choosing to avoid crudely-drawn depictions of the barbaric Western Dragons. A boorish contrast with the graceful long of his homeland though they may be, there was a bit of residual reverence there. Plus, deep down, Feng felt a twinge of empathy towards their culturally rowdy attitude. Perhaps the dragon side of him was from across the ocean after all... The next seven shots were all taken towards the fruit; pears and peaches each exploding in little bits of fruit as he got into his rhythm. Not too many risks, but no need to go for too easy a target. He had training, but wasn't an expert, and chose his targets accordingly. Except for the last one. That Golden Cupcake... no way he could leave the range without taking at least one shot towards it, right? Numbers: 1, 33, 34, 42, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 77
  10. PrinceBlueblood

    Peryton Prince

    Love this emerald cutie
  11. PrinceBlueblood

    Kelpie Queen

    Frighteningly regal
  12. PrinceBlueblood

    Pearl Sunrise

    I see a sea cutie!
  13. Submitted for Judging Not for the first time, Fēng Yīnhǎitāo was grateful that showers had been provided for the athletes at the Iron pony. Of course, 'showers' often meant a bucket brigade and a laundry tub, but that just reminded him of his foalhood. Ponyville might be growing into a bustling hub, but it was still a small country town at heart. Still, Feng had acquired enough big-city sophistication to not want any mud to linger on his scales after being pulled into the tug-of-war pit. That all taken care of, he arrived at the barrel weave's starting line with no small amount of confidence, perhaps a bit of a cockiness too, in his strut. All his years of martial arts training as a longma Imperial Watcher had given him a level of bodily control on top of his natural agility that had served him well through many events, and this was going to be a perfect fit for his talents. *Just gotta remember to keep my wings folded. Don't want to accidentally brush a barrel, or get hit with a DQ.* It would just be the sort of thing his hometown would expect, wouldn't it, for someone of his family; all that preparation for a spectacular failure- *NO! NONE OF THAT.* He grit his teeth, his earlier, easy confidence draining away as he tried to shout down his own doubts within his head. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, meditative breath. *Don't think about them. Think of the Empress. Remember her charge to you to bring glory and honor to her country's name. Keep her confidence in you in the front of your mind. Remember her smile, and know you shall summon it forth again* He wondered if Yu Yue knew how often she had saved him from being swallowed by his own sense of self-doubt and anxiety; it was one of the reasons he was so obsessively devoted to her. She had done her job once again, it seemed, as by the time the start of his run was flagged, he was able to regain his easy, confident gait as he sprinted forward, banking into each turn as if he were going on an easy flight. The key was balance, as the difficulty of the event came from having to shift one's weight back and forth so many times. It was a deceptively hard task for a quadruped, but Feng was making it look easy... for the first six barrels. The seventh turn he made was a bit too outside, and he knew it halfway through. His momentum was too high to easily run back without either losing time or knocking into a barrel. But Feng wasn't one to accept a bad dichotomy, not when he could show off by picking the third, crazy option. At the outer edge of his turn, he sharply banked back to the left and drifted, planting all four hooves flat and casting a cloud of dust in his wake as he made the turn on momentum alone, before kicking off around the eighth barrel, the balance in his run restored. It was the sort of move only a supremely confident, and none too heavy, pony could take, and fortunately Feng was both. The cloud hadn't dissipated fully by the time he reached the finish line, which caused him to cough as he stopped to catch his breath. Clearing his throat, after a second, he called out to the cheering crowd, "That one's for you, Yue!" The mere words would have merely seemed to most like an idle dedication of an athlete in the spotlight, taking on the mantle of 'humility.' But for the longma stallion, he really meant it; if it were not for her and the chance she (or her Watchers) had given him, he could not have hoped for anything like success or glory. Whatever he won at the Iron Pony was to be laid, gratefully, at her hooves.
  14. It was starting to get a little crowded around the pavilion, with many ponies splitting into their own conversations without really opening up the space. Feng didn't mind so much; he'd long since gotten used to the crowds in Huangjing, though that had been a bit of an adjustment the young colt from the mountains had to make back when he first joined the Watcher's Academy. Mostly, he dealt with this by focusing his attention on one thing at a time, which did end up looking a little rude from the outside, perhaps, but he'd begun to suspect that Tempest Shadow was a mare in need of sustained positive attention. And if her reaction to asking about her autograph was any indication, Feng was right. "Oh yes. You really were impressive out there, and I think I learned something from your performance. Why wouldn't I want an autograph?" He kept up his smile as she began to write her name... but then it all seemed to come apart. He supposed he couldn't blame Yanhua for coming in; he had been paying her unconscionably little attention since they arrived in the pavilion, and even he didn't suspect Tempest's name would be that much of an issue for the mare. Cheese, though... Poor Cheese sandwhich was the brick that broke the camel's back. Cheerfulness was great when one is cheerful, but to a hurting heart, it's a bit like pouring apple cider into an open wound. Feng weathered the outburst, immediately shifting back into 'guard mode.' This was a situation that needed to be contained, and he was a stallion trained to deal with these situations. Turning to Cheese, he put a polite but firm hoof upon the other stallion's shoulder. "I really think you should move along, sir. Until things have calmed down a little bit." His voice was like thick oil poured over troubled waters, but one that would brook no inflammatory response, lest the incautious pony wanted an explosion to the face. To Yanhua, though, he could only give an apologetic look. Tempest was a mare that needed help, and Feng was just the sort of guy that did so without needing to think about it. In many ways, he remained the same young colt that had been a friend to her when she was lonely and needing it most; and he hoped she would understand right now. Addressing the rest of the crowd, he cleared his throat and said, "I'm just going to escort Miss Shadow off to the side; I would kindly ask that none of you disturb her for the next few minutes." And with a pat to the maroon unicorn's shoulders, he spoke softly, "Come along. Just off to the corner here; get a little bit of cold water. We all need to cool our heads, that's all." Deep breath, situation contained. Hopefully this wouldn't put too much of a damper on everypony else's good time.
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