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Everything posted by PrinceBlueblood

  1. "[colour=#8b4513]Mmm... true...[/colour]" Earth Writer mused as Sugar Apple spoke of places he'd found that she'd probably never been. He was a local, but he'd only really begun to explore the city beyond the University and Student's neighborhood a few months ago. Still, there was a couple of places he'd like to show off- The first sound of choking brought him to attention like the crack of a whip. He was scrambling to his hooves even before she'd finished pleading for help, though in his haste he kicked the cushion into the back of another customer's head. "[colour=#8b4513]Hold on![/colour]" He called out, as he got behind her and wrapped his hooves right below Sugar Apple's diaphragm. Fortunately, the stallion had learned what to do for a choking pony, and a quick heave soon launched the offending chunk of strudel from her throat. Earth could hear it land with a splash somewhere, but right now he really didn't care about that. "[colour=#8b4513]Alright,[/colour]" He said, breathing heavily, "[colour=#8b4513]Are you OK?[/colour]" Concern and relief mixed in his voice. Today was certainly turning out eventful...
  2. Earth Writer couldn't think of any academians off the top of his head that would dedicate any effort to tracing the etymology of the word 'hooey,' but he didn't mention it. There wasn't time, in any case, before Greenshot returned with their order. The stallion very nearly got a sugar rush by proxy looking at the load of treats set before them. "[colour=#8b4513]I certainly plan to enjoy them![/colour]" He replied to the unicorn. He decided to try the smoothie first, it seemed to be derived from spiced cider, giving it a strong flavour that complimented light pastries surprisingly well. Earth was a little more delicate in his manners by default, but since there wasn't any silverware on the table, he just levitated the entire strudel up to his mouth to take a bite. "[colour=#8b4513]Mmm![/colour]" It was the perfect temperature, warm, but not so hot that the filling burned the roof of his mouth. He washed down the bite, "[colour=#8b4513]Most delicious! I regret now that I haven't visited the place sooner![/colour]"
  3. Well, given that my characters will be in the various locations that will be visited, I'd vote for emphasizing the stops, but there's an obvious bias there. In any case, I'll be dropping in at Stalliongrad/Cloudsdale for certain, if those are in the itinerary.
  4. Psmith magicked open the pavilion door, indicating by a grand and sweeping gesture that Long Drive was to precede him. "[colour=#996699]If you wish to restore your tissues, there are bottles of ginger-beer and biscuits available for public consumption.[/colour]" The leisurely way in which the colt moved, the particularity with which he dusted his seat, and the overall easy and languid posture he affected may well have made anypony despair of making him be 'short and to the point.' As nothing much was currently happening on the field, Psmith renewed his commentary. "[colour=#996699]You do not plan to play professionally? It is a rarified career, to be sure, but fit for a rare talent. My talents, as you may observe,[/colour]" He nodded back towards the empty speech balloon that was his cutie mark, "[colour=#996699]Lie in talking, and I plan to make a career out of it as a barrister. Hence, I must devote my youth to endurance training of the lungs. Practice, my lad! The champion's foundation, and the sluggard's anathema. One sees so little dedication these days, it would be a pity to spoil any youthful reserve of it.[/colour]"
  5. This kind of mutual teasing had always looked a little odd whenever Earth Writer had seen it crop up, either in fiction or real life. Mind, a lot about having a special somepony couldn't be really understood until one had one. With a half-lidded smile, the stallion responded to Sugar Apple joking tone with a mock-serious one, which made it even funnier. "[colour=#8b4513]Your logic has a failure in argumentative consistency! Your premise is based upon a claim you had just dismissed as, quote, 'A load of hooey.' What exactly is 'hooey,' anyway? I heard that term a lot growing up, but no one ever defined it-[/colour]" Realizing that he had veered into a tangent just like the legendary chancellor, he cracked up, waving a hoof. "[colour=#8b4513]Alright, alright, we concede the Puddinghead point...[/colour]" He had to recover from his laughter, which gave him time to consider his date's question of titles. "[colour=#8b4513]I don't see why you wouldn't hold the title, but then I'm not exactly a member of Herald's College myself; I went to University for a more practical education.[/colour]" Earth's eye twinkled as he continued the jest. "[colour=#8b4513]But I shall be sure to have the answer to your question by the next time we meet, your grace![/colour]"
  6. ((OK, Great!)) The ways of war in the desert are not suitable to the rigid. Those who are not flexible and quick in mind and body soon find that the very ground shifts beneath their hooves... and buries them. In this case, the shamans of these cannibalistic savages had just buried Crazy Horse's cavalry. This was not an unforseen contingency, however... *** "Harnesses!?" The charioteer looked down at the undersized son of the Khan. Of course, one was honor bound to follow orders, but this was insulting! "Do you so doubt and dishonor the ancestral skills of the Delzhan?" Crazy Horse fixed the warrior's eye with a sharp look, as he began to weave accommodating words with his silver tongue. "It is no dishonor to respect the strength of one's enemy. Has not contempt for one's opponent been the fall of many a duelist? In such losses there is no honor. The shamans of the desert command the very ground underneath our wheels and hooves, but do we face them with fear in our hearts? Do we cower, by arming ourselves with our full contingent of wits? No! We hold in our hooves the security of Chiaroscuro, and no shame shall come to her from us!" *** ((-1 to the "Don't worry, I thought of something pool.")) As the ponies buried at the surface used the anchoring ropes to pull themselves out of the sand, and after to pull their deeper-sunk comrades, Crazy Horse figured that a certain charioteer was glad that he had acquiesced to his commander's ideas. *That's why I'm the pony in charge.* Time seemed to slow as the two flanks of the Delzhan closed in upon the Dune Ponies, the young stallion's mind racing to take in new developments. The chariots would be in need of repair, but the ponies and lizards would dig themselves out in a few ticks. Right now, the infantry would initiate the battle- -And what of these newcomers? "If they are not against us, they are for us! Now, favored sons of Chiaroscuro, bring the wrath of Alhat upon the Dunes!" The jaws of the Delzhan clamped upon the barbarians of the desert. ((Join War - Wits+War=5+3, and my character has the "Improved Join Battle" Merit, but I don't know what that translates into in mechanics))
  7. Just Graduated from University! Woohoo!

  8. For a non-ship, how does Prince Blueblood become an amateur detective a la Lord Peter Wimsey?
  9. A couple of questions: First, are we rolling join battle/join war for initiative, or just going by posting order? Second, are we going to get the stat sheets of our forces/the enemies? That will probably effect what rolls we choose, especially if the stats are significantly different from our own character's.
  10. Hello! And don't worry too much; it's a pretty diverse group here from what I've seen.
  11. There was a lot of good stuff in this episode, I have to say, but it suffered, really suffered, from being 45 minutes long instead of an hour. Development of characters and concepts had to be compressed into sentences, giving it overall a very rushed feel. The framework holds up on retroactive inspection, but if you missed anything, you're probably going to be crying foul at developments that you missed the foreshadowing for. It doesn't actually end on a deus ex machina, but by golly, you'll think it did for a minute. To discuss the cybermen reboot on a separate note... yeah, they're made scary, but the thing is, I'm still wondering why they didn't keep using some of their tactics in the climax that they demonstrated in the set-up (You'll see which one I mean in particular). But Gaiman does use them creatively, I will admit.
  12. Hm, I've got a couple of characters that I haven't used much that could work as ponies that the group can meet at each location, Flying Brick from Stalliongrad, and Sky Sailing from Cloudsdale (Profiles in Character log)
  13. I've actually been looking for the same thing to test an idea of mine here: http://www.canterlot.com/topic/14503-equestria-908-setting-past/ Let me know if you're interested!
  14. Long Drive's rebuke of Psmith's verbosity rolled off his St. Mareson's jacket like water off wingfeathers, prompting nothing but a smile of slight amusement, and a sigh. "[colour=#996699]I dislike,[/colour]" The unicorn spoke languidly as he limped out of the waiting room with Long Drive in tow, "[colour=#996699]This modern superstition of hurry, bustle, and efficiency. It spoils the temperament and digestion; observe the rudeness and inhospitality in this, the city which never sleeps. And not only does it sour sociability, it spoils sport. To speak purely to communicate, and not to enjoy talking for its own sake, would be like picking up the golf ball and dropping it into the hole. No doubt it saves time, but you would hardly do anything like that comrade."[/colour] The parallel was, in fact, very apt, given Psmith's cutie mark and corresponding talent. He'd always babbled at length, ever since he was born. The ensuing years had only enforced a grammatical regularity to the words and a refined solemnity to the tone. "[colour=#996699]As for the injury, I sustained it while providing moral support to the school's cricket team. Such are the risks we brave for our loyalties! Ah, but it was a magnificent sight, the bowler careening down the pitch like a windmill in a hurry, the skittering ball duly punished by the blow of the willow bat as the batter sent it sailing towards the boundary... and my wrist, which was honored to be an integral part of such a spectacle." [/colour]He flexed his injured hoof, and winced. "[colour=#996699]I believe, however, that I shall complete my observances from the pavilion.[/colour]" "[colour=#996699]But now,[/colour]" Psmith turned, feeling that he should allow his acquaintance some chance to speak, "[colour=#996699]Tell me more of your parent's proposed entrepreneurship. I am always game to give what assistance I can to a sportspony.[/colour]"
  15. (Sure thing! http://generic-poizon-dart.deviantart.com/art/Commission-3-Earth-Writer-365344684) It seemed that the Apple Family's origins weren't quite as clear-cut as Earth Writer thought. "[colour=#8b4513]Huh. I wouldn't have thought being descended from Smart Cookie all that unlikely, though. It was so long ago, there's probably a lot of ponies that can trace their lineage to her in some manner. Of course,[/colour]" He chuckled, remembering, "[colour=#8b4513]Judging from our behavior today, maybe one of us might be descended from Mayor Puddinghead instead.[/colour]" This remark naturally segued into a discussion of Earth Writer's own family history. "[colour=#8b4513]Hm, well I don't mind telling you. It's a bit too mixed and varied to fit well into an expose, though.[/colour]" He began, tapping his chin. "[colour=#8b4513]My father's side of the family is the unicorn half; we've traced it back to one of the old nobles who went down and settled in the Gallopagos Islands. My grandfather came back to the mainland to teach at one of the universities. I suppose that means there's a title on te registry here we could claim if we cared about it.[/colour]" The stallion shrugged. "[colour=#8b4513]As much fun as it would be to spring it on the snootier portions of this city, it's really more trouble than its worth, as far as I'm concerned.[/colour]" He had to laugh at the mental image that conjured up, of the reporter being snubbed by the likes of the Upper Crust, until he casually dropped the fact that he was the Duke of Clopacabana. "[colour=#8b4513]As for my mother, she's an Earth Pony rooted in the Heartland, though her ancestors came from practically everywhere, as far as we can tell. I think there might be a zebra in there, but we don't know for sure.[/colour]"
  16. More and more ponies were beginning to crowd around the gate! A dancer had just walked up, and seemingly decided on the spot to accompany them on their tour of the Empire. Not that Earth Writer would have minded, per se, but the crowding in general was giving him a slight case of irrational, nervous excitement. He tried to walk it out, coming from the gate onto the road, where he heard Heart Healer ask him a question. "[colour=#8b4513]Yep. Was it the hat that tipped you off?[/colour]" He replied with a grin. His hat was more or less part of the "Fleet Street Uniform" that was often seen in Canterlot journalistic circles, though no military pony would have dignified the loose fashion adherence with the title. Speaking of which... "[colour=#8b4513]Morning, Colonel! Why the long face?[/colour]" It was a little surprising to see an officer of his homeland so far from it, and in full uniform as well! He made a studied contrast with the local guard, and the reporter noted down a few of the key differences in his notebook. And then there was another tourist, a Miss Harshwinny. Earth nodded to her in greeting. "[colour=#8b4513]This is my first trip myself; already it promises not to be without incident. Good thing, as I'm here for business as much as pleasure.[/colour]"
  17. And now came the locals, all sparkling in the sun. [colour=#8b4513]*How in the wide world of Equestria do they do that?*[/colour] Ever since the Crystal Empire first re-emerged, all kinds of theories and explanations had been put forward by academics and the like, none of which seemed to be attracting anything like consensus. Maddeningly, most of the Crystal Ponies themselves, when asked, generally replied "Why don't you?" But then, that was part of the fun of being a traveling reporter and geographer. The definition of "Normal" changed depending on where you were. The stalling greeted the newcomers with a bow, trying to summon all the manner's he'd picked up in Canterlot. "[colour=#8b4513]It is a great pleasure to meet you all. Just to be able to come here is a rare and unexpected privilege for Equestrians.[/colour]" He especially wanted to make a good impression on the guard. There was something about her, not exactly cold, but sharp. Warm, but with a definite edge. [colour=#8b4513]*Like this place, and its crystals.* [/colour] There was something pleasing in the parallel between the Empire and its guard, and it earned her a big smile from him. The other two mares seemed like more or less ordinary citizens coming to see what all the fuss was about. Ponies were essentially the same everywhere, in that regard. Right about then, Pathfinder got up and, well, proceeded to be herself. Earth would have recognized her anywhere. "[colour=#8b4513]Now I remember, we met back in Ponyville, back in the line at the kissing booth.[/colour]" He paused, not sure if such things had ever been heard of in the Empire [colour=#8b4513]*Well, that's another thing to put in the article.*[/colour] Or there could be an international incident. That could work too. It had taken the reporter but an instant to put two and two together, and for a second, he thought he was about to witness an arrest, or at least some kind of serious indignation. As it was, she seemed to be mostly concerned with the pegasus' mental state, which was reasonable enough. "[colour=#8b4513]I'd be glad of the company, if you would consent to the tour, and I would also offer my aid in escorting my... fellow countrypony to a place of aid.[/colour]" He drew out his notebook again. He hadn't been a reporter very long, but he was starting to get a feel for when interesting things were about to happen...
  18. The desert is where Chiaroscuroans fought. They lived by trade and the wheat grown on the scrub, and for that reason took a great deal of trouble to see that no enemy ever got that far, and a great deal of pride that none of them had. Crazy Horse could see this place as the battlefield it was, the place where invaders, bandits, and cannibals came to die. He could see that ambush point, and had been preparing to take advantage of it when he paused. Bandits didn't normally have the power to move whole dunes like that, and generally didn't abandon positions that prime when they found them. Either one of the Delzhan's patrols had found them, or... something else had. *Of course, there is another explanation... but how in the name of Alhat did they get this far north?* The stallion turned to face his lieutenant, a lock of silver mane escaping from his loose turban. "Desert ponies," he remarked tersely. The lieutenant had been on that early campaign, and would recognize the tactic of their enemies. Crazy Horse dismounted from the lizard, mind racing. He needed a plan; cannibals this far north threatened the trade routes, which could not be ignored, even with the scouting force he'd been sent to deal with. His landing jolted his brain into action, and he started snapping orders in a low, sharp whisper. "Alhat is kind to us today; if we do not squander this blessing we may yet persuade the hornet to land upon the stinging nettle." He grinned at the thought; there was something appealingly elegant in having two enemies duel each other. He addressed his lieutenant. "We shall split our forces; I will take 50 to the right, you will take 50 to the left. Meanwhile, the chariots will gallop behind us in a semi-circle; their dust and vibrations will conceal our movements and bring confusion to the enemy! We shall have them surrounded when they come out." Like the opening of a flower, the two flanks of the Delzhan warriors opened and spread over the dunes, while the chariots sent up a clatter and dust like the noise and pollen of spring.
  19. Alright then. I was actually looking more information; I think we may have gotten the terms mixed up, since the ruler of Chiaroscuro was called the Tri-Khan, and the people themselves were called the Delzhan. I suppose we can keep using the terms, it just caught me by surprise, is all.
  20. Upon hearing that the apple strudel was indeed a favorite of the chef's, Earth Writer beamed. "[colour=#8b4513]Excellent! I believe that will be all; I had some sugar apples myself.[/colour]" He gave another smile to his date as Greenshot levitated their menus away. In truth, the Stallion probably could have eaten more, but it probably wasn't a good idea to gobble up so many sweets in one day. Besides, it would have been an imposition upon Sugar Apple, and that his chivalry would not stand! Now that their orders were out of the way, the conversation could go on to other matters, and talk of strudel segued into a discussion of family origins. "[colour=#8b4513]I've heard that the Apple family originally came out of Germaney; I know Granny Smith's brother's from there, at any rate, since he used to visit Ponyville from time to time. You've all certainly branched out-[/colour]" He paused suddenly, realizing what he just said, "[colour=#8b4513]Er, if you'll pardon the pun.[/colour]"
  21. The patchwork was not complicated job, and it was but a few minutes before Psmith came hobbling out of the office, forehoof in a splint. It was a testament to his native gentility that he managed to retain an element of solemn gracefulness in his limping, but the upshot of that was of his injury invoking humor rather than pity in the bystander. He was too dignified to be anything but funny; so much so that a pony might almost suspect that he was doing it on purpose. A big hint to that effect was his face upon seeing that Babs was no longer there; it bore the look of an actor who has come out to an empty theater. "[colour=#996699]Why, we are bereaved, comrade Long Drive! Has the young beauty of Manehattan, the pick of the apples, deserted us in our time of need? Have our slight friction frayed the thread of friendship to its breaking point? Alas, it seems to be so. Well, we must bear up under these troubles, surel they must have some purpose. Perhaps to make us more grateful of those who remain."[/colour] With a sigh, he turned to his remaining 'comrade.' "[colour=#996699]I do hope our [/colour][colour=#996699]acquaintance[/colour][colour=#996699] has not proven to be excessively abrasive. This city is stimulating, but more delicate constitutions find it wearing. Fortunately, I enjoy these collisions of wit and temperament, though I sometimes forget that others do not.[/colour]"
  22. (Do you all want to conclude this here? I had a sort of idea that Psmith would volunteer his "services" to Long Drive's parents, but that could easily go into another thread.)
  23. Hm, finals coming up...

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