Penblade

I'm going to make a pair of sandwich boards (the sort crazy hobos wear) and on it I'm going to write, in big intense letters "DOOMSDAY 2012!!! Maybe this time!" Then walk around and be a spoof doomsayer. Not sure about you but I think it's gonna be hilarious.

[colour=#8B4513]"Daring Do, [/colour][colour=#8B4513]pleased to meet the both of you as well." [/colour] A click sounded in Chapeau's mind as all the clues came together with that admission. He'd never been particularly fond of the Daring Do books, but with its mass popularity it was nigh impossible not to have heard of the series, and now he remembered where he'd seen this mare, this Daring Do, before. Carbon Copy had been reading through the series recently and Daring's visage had been plastered on the front of each one, often with her in the middle of some exciting act. He smiled triumphantly to himself as an indulgence. The mystery had been solved, but what to do now? Gearshift seemed to know exactly what to do though: choke to death. Well, almost. The thief continued to smile to himself at the look of shock on the mare's face as she reacted to the revelation. He nodded respectfully at the two mares in turn as Gearshift introduced herself, [colour=#A9A9A9]"A great pleasure to meet you both miss Gearshift and miss Daring, if somewhat of a surprise. I for one never even considered it possible that you were real. One mare doing so many heroic deeds? Preposterous. Aw, but it seems I was wrong in that assumption. Tonight is full of surprises, isn't it?"[/colour] [colour=#A9A9A9][colour=#8B4513][colour=#8B4513]"So you are also an artifact collector, Chapeau? In what manner do you go about the task?"[/colour][/colour][/colour] Chapeau picked up his cider again and smirked over the rim of the glass at Daring, [colour=#A9A9A9]"Such a question suggests that, while we all know your name the moment it is uttered, you do not recognize mine. Excellent."[/colour] He took a sip, [colour=#A9A9A9]"I acquire my artifacts in much the same way you do I imagine. I find a location where objects of wealth lie dormant and unused. I plan my mission very meticulously over the course of several weeks usually, which I believe would be one of two things that separate us, since, if I'm not mistaken, you seem more like the spontaneous type. After that there is a considerable amount of sneaking, hiding, tricking, soaring, running, locked doors, and hats. And at the end of it all I am usually in possession of the aforementioned wealth, which I then auction to the highest bidder, to fund my next business venture." [/colour]Oh this was just so much fun, stringing them along. Chapeau always found the best lies to be those that weren't even lies at all, just a skewing of the truth. Now then miss Do, he thought, grinning over the rim of his cider again, you're smart. Let's see you figure me out. [colour=#A9A9A9]"Oh, and as for hiding in plain sight, I admire that as well. Very clever if I do say so myself."[/colour]

The letter was... disappointing, if Chapeau was to be honest with himself. He'd known it wasn't likely in but the thief had expected some sort of grand revelation to be revealed in the letter. A secret or a message, even a vague hint would have been exciting. But no; it had mainly just reiterated what Cadence had told him, perhaps in a bit more detail, but nothing more. Oh well, he thought, quickly getting over his disappointment with a shrug, maybe next time. He checked the clock set on a shelf across the room and found it was just about time for dinner. He smirked and adjusted his hat,[colour=#A9A9A9] "Showtime."[/colour] [colour=#A9A9A9] [/colour]After dinner...[colour=#A9A9A9] [/colour]As dinner came to a close and the dishes were carted away by the serving staff Chapeau found he was enjoying himself beyond what any criminal in his position had the right to. The criminal element of Canterlot was clever in its own right, but chatting with nobility presented its own set of unique conversation opportunities. Over the years Chapeau had posed as a lord from afar more than once, and had grown quite fond of the intricate, often unscrupulous games they played amongst themselves. Ahh, palace politics: a vicious yet delicate scramble for power and influence. It was so much fun to watch their plans unfold, and just as much fun to occasionally mess with their plans on the side while performing a heist. Unfortunately, tonight was not about ripping off old, wealthy stallions or wooing young, wealthy mares. Tonight, whether he liked it or not, Chapeau was on business. At the moment, business involved sitting about with his fellow recruited agents of the monarchy and swapping stories. He smiled fondly to himself as he listened to Gearshift's story, followed by that of the mare in the green dress. This brought back memories of his first night hanging out with the other thieves in a secluded alley. The camaraderie had been intoxicating... much like the wine they'd been drinking quite steadily. Hold on. What was that? Chapeau banished his nostalgic thoughts and looked at the mare in the green. My, but that face was familiar. Where had he seen it before? Artifacts... Archives... Adventuring... It all seemed to hint at, something. He knew- he just knew -that he'd seen this mare before, and it was nagging at the back of his mind. But he couldn't just ask her straight out, what would be the fun in that? No. As usual Chapeau decided to wait and see. He was definitely going to be paying more attention to this mare. Secrets drew him like moths to a flame. He set down his cider (they had some really good brews here!) and smiled at the two mares, [colour=#A9A9A9]"I am inclined to agree with our adventurous friend here. That's quite an impressive story. I personally admire ponies who take it upon themselves to get things done on their own. That do-it-yourself attitude is admirable. And an agent of the princesses; remarkable! I feel honored to be meeting both of you." [/colour]He shrugged humbly,[colour=#A9A9A9] "Makes me somewhat disappointed that I don't have such an amazing story to share. I'm just a business rival of the Princesses'. Nothing as prestigious as an agent or a technomage. Actually, you could say that my work is very similar to that of our green and tan friend here." [/colour]He nodded at the mare. Green and tan... this is driving me mad! [colour=#A9A9A9]"I am also in the item acquisition business. This is my first opportunity to work in tandem with the Princesses though, and I am very-" [/colour]Annoyed. Aggravated. Perturbed. Put-out. [colour=#A9A9A9]"-pleased, to have the chance. Ah, but my manners appear to have left me. My name is Chapeau Stunning, and I am very pleased to meet you both."[/colour]

(I would post but I'm waiting to see what's in the letter My mistake. I thought there was something important in the letter. Also, I was looking forward to having dinner with the princesses)

Hi there folks! I was hoping I could join in as Rarity's ancestor. This is a work in progress at the moment since I haven't finished her backstory, but I would still like feedback, particularly whether or not I took too many artistic liberties by adding gypsies. (Personally I think it would be funny if Rarity's ancestor wore garish, insane clothing as gypsies are known to do ) Name(s): - Birth Name: Moonlight - Destined Name: Tambourine Sex: Female Age: Mare Species: Unicorn *Nationality: Heavani **Organization: None ***Social Class: Gypsy Eye Color: Light blue Coat Color: White Mane/tail: Violet Physique: Slender Cutie Mark/Destiny Mark: A tambourine with a multicolored arrow on it, acquired on the day she first danced with the other mares at the caravan’s summer solstice celebration. It represents her passion for music and destiny as a leader. Origin/Residence: She was born in the caravan, lived in the caravan, and always thought she’d die in the caravan. It seems fate had other plans for her though. Occupation: Traveling merchant and seamstress. Like many ponies in the caravan, she can work wonders with fabric as well as her fated instrument, but the tambourine is not an instrument to be played just to make a few coins. The Heavani gypsies consider it to be the most sacred of musical tools, and are rarely seen playing it outside their camps. Personality: Tambourine is a very emotional pony. She moves with the flow of events and reacts based on her emotions and instinct rather than firm logic. She is a wild free spirit and is just as likely to dance and sing as to weep and rage. Years of leading the caravan have led her to be extremely confident and almost narcissistic at times. She fiercely protects the members of her caravan. Family: Her parents left the caravan fifteen years before when it became too large to maintain as a single unit. The caravan of back then had split into two smaller groups, one led by Light Scarf and her husband Wooly, and the other led by Tambourine. She has a younger brother and sister that stayed with her, though she treats them more like her children than her siblings. Background Story: Moonlight was born in the middle of winter to Light Scarf and Wooly. She was a precious little foal and her parents loved her dearly. She grew up on the move, traveling with her parents and extended relatives in the caravan as they wandered the countryside, carefree and whimsical. At the time the caravan consisted of at least fifteen families, about seven of them related while the other eight consisted of regular ponies who sought a different way of living. For a group that made their living off foraging and entertaining (sometimes trading homemade goods for crafted ones) the high number of families was disconcerting. Moonlight was taught by her parents and the other adults in the caravan as she grew up. Her education wasn’t as good as it might have been in a real school in the cities, but what skills and knowledge she did learn, she learned well. Tailoring and music were her particular favorites growing up, eventually leading her to gain her Destiny Mark when she danced and played the tambourine at the summer celebration, leading a group of other fillies in a dance they’d made up. About seven years after Tambourine gained her mark and new name, the caravan size problem came to a head. It was a regular practice among the gypsies; when a caravan got too big it would split and the two groups would go their separate ways. Simple in concept maybe, but after living with each other for two decades since the last split, nopony wanted to separate. It became apparent however that they were going to have to on a winter’s night, much like the night Tambourine was born, two ponies got into a furious fight over a loaf of bread. It wasn’t even good bread, it was week old, stale bread.

[colour=#A9A9A9]"Dinner with princess Celestia,"[/colour] Chapeau mused to himself as he stood up, tucking his quill into his saddlebags beside the envelope, [colour=#A9A9A9]"I wonder how many pieces I'll be in by tomorrow, or perhaps I'll just be a pile of ash. Or the moon. I hear she likes the moon thing."[/colour] He placed his hat on his head and walked over to the door. He turned back to face Cadence, bowing elegantly, [colour=#A9A9A9]“It has been an honor my lady, particularly the part where I am not in the dungeon. I shall see you at dinner I assume, but until then, good evening to you. Oh, and... do say hello to Shining for me.” [/colour]Turning, he opened the door and smiled brightly at the two frowning guards waiting right outside, [colour=#A9A9A9]“Now then boys, I’m told I have rooms to inspect? Lead on!”[/colour] [colour=#222222](An hour or so later...)[/colour] [colour=#222222]Chapeau angled the brush held by his wingtip delicately, using a mirror in his room to put the final touch on his favorite false Cutie Mark design. With a final, practiced dab of dye his flanks completed their transformation, now graced by a Victorian style mask on either side. He smiled and set the brush down beside half a dozen tiny bottles of dye he always concealed in the bottom of his bag, in case he needed to quickly reprofile.[/colour] [colour=#222222]Besides the new Cutie Mark, he was otherwise out of costume now. A dusty blue suit with a complementing vest adorned his chest and forelegs, while he’d brushed his mane and tail and cleaned up his hat to perfection. He would have preferred his beloved trilby, but he had the glaring suspicion that he was not allowed to leave Cadence’s vicinity, so he made due with adjusting the reporter’s hat to look at least somewhat respectable. It wasn’t every day... nay, it wasn’t even every lifetime that a famed criminal sat down to have a civil dinner with the ruler of the realm.[/colour] [colour=#222222]With his mark now in place he collected his kit and stored them safely back in his saddlebags. Now then, he thought, removing the envelope, let’s see what exactly I’m to be doing. He spent a moment admiring the craftsmanship of the seal, such artistry put into a simple thing of wax, before breaking it and unfolding the paper, reading the contents with great interest...[/colour]

Gallows yawned as he stared up at the stars, half listening to Silvertongue and half drifting off to sleep. It seemed last night’s late night escapade was finally catching up with him. The story was quite a good one; just raunchy enough to keep his interest, but leaving plenty to the imagination. That night he dreamed of dancing mares and salty air, feeling the sea breeze on his face as he walked the docks and jetties of Riptide Bay. In the morning Gallows awoke with great reluctance. In his dream he’d just managed to get the mare from Silvertongue’s story to his cabin aboard his mighty galleon, but Phoebus’ accursed globe seemed to think he didn’t deserve the pleasure of her company. He cracked his eyes open and groaned loudly, and much like a child, as the sun stabbed light straight into his brain. “Urgh! Stupid sun, always waking me up. Interrupting my dreams. Destroying my fantasies.” He grumbled fitfully as he rolled onto his hooves, having fallen asleep right beside the fire. His mood improved as he stretched luxuriously, feeling many of his vertebrae pop and crack into proper alignment after a night of disuse. “Awe yeah, that’s the good stuff.” He sighed fitfully and looked around, seeing the others going about their daily grooming rituals. He decided it was about time he cleaned up too. He twisted his tongue around and licked the front of each tooth twice, then spat into the bushes when he was done. Spotlessly clean, he trotted over to Silvan and Silvertongue, “Morning kid. Morning, Silver.” A split second pause was the only indication that Gallows had to stop himself from saying ‘old man.’

Chapeau was almost as surprised as the guards were when the pair of lawkeepers were dismissed. Not as surprised as the details of his royal assignment had made him, but close. He had expected... actually, he hadn't had any idea what to expect, but taking out these Forerunners was an interesting twist of fate. Taking down the organization that was causing increased guard patrols all over the city, and by royal request no less; maybe his luck wasn't as bad as he'd begun to suspect at the beginning of this exchange. He tapped a hoof on the tabletop thoughtfully, organizing this new information alongside his pre-existing thoughts, then smiled at the princess, "You are certainly not the mare I thought you were this morning princess. I used to wonder what Shining Armor saw in you that was so special, but I think I'm starting to see it now," He waved a hoof dismissively, "But that's beside the point at the moment. Espionage is indeed one of my finer talents, as well as a few other, unseemly skills that I'm sure you wouldn't be interested in. You can count on my assistence princess, providing you keep your word. I believe removing these 'Forerunners' will be in both out interests in the long run." He slipped the envelope into his saddlebags, intending to read it later, then glanced back at the princess. He quirked his head to the side slightly, "Tell me, when did you figure out it was me coming to interview the palace staff? What gave me away?"

Chapeau chose to ignore the disgust in the princess's eyes as he took the envelope, listening to her offer as he studied the outside of it. Aside from the seal on its front it wasn't particularly obvious that it was of any importance. Apparently though, what the envelope contained could save Chapeau's life, while at the same time making him the lapdog of the princesses. A hated, reviled lapdog no less. It was, of course, obvious what the smart choice was. After all, what was a lifetime of shame when weighed against an abrupt end to his lifetime? Unfortunately, and at the worst possible time, a thought popped into the thief's mind. He suddenly thought he could almost recall dozens of times when he'd been ordered by somepony in a far more advantageous position to surrender, and had the distinct impression that he'd never done it. He had no idea where the thought had come from, but it seemed to settle itself in his brain, twisting his reason. He set the envelope down on the table again (OOC: Is there a table?) and simply looked at it for a moment, pondering it. Then he looked up and made sure to look Cadence in the eye, "I can tell you hate me, princess. You're not trying to hide it at all, I know. You're disgusted by what I am, and want me to change into something that better fits your mold of a proper citizen... or perhaps this is a suicide mission, and you just want to see me dead. In either case, I think I have my answer, but before I say it, I want to know yours." He turned the letter around and pushed it toward her, his face fixed on hers and neutral, "What would your answer be, if somepony wanted you to sell yourself to them?"

After giggling at the comics for a few minutes Moon has eaten her fill and decides to call up her friends. She feels full of energy today, like it's the first day of her life, and she wants to go on an adventure! Cleaning up the table and tossing the dishes in the sink to be washed later she trots over to to the phone with a spring in her step. She takes it off the hook and dials her first friend's number but all she gets is white noise. She tries again with her other friends' numbers and gets only static on every try. Weird. She tries a few random numbers to see if it's just her friends' phones she can't reach but no matter who she calls she only gets noise. She replaces the phone and frowns. Stupid thing must be broken. She brightens up again quickly though. She can just go for a walk and gather up her friends the old fashioned way; no high tech gadgetry today! She steps outside and looks around. The street is just beginning to come alive, a few ponies here and there just getting up like her to begin their days are wandering about, while a pegasus streaks across the sky way up over the clouds. Oh my... the clouds! It looks like there's a storm brewing a few miles away, but it doesn't appear to be moving, so she should be safe from the rain for a few hours. Strange though; she doesn't remember there being a storm planned for today. But, she has other things to worry about right now! Time to find some friends. Where to first?

Chapeau sat quietly for a few moments, mulling over what he'd just been told. He pressed his lips into a line and absently swirled his cider. So the literal "pretty pink princess" was the mastermind behind the darker side of Equestria's crusade for justice. Now that was something he had not anticipated. He'd had his suspicions for a while now that the guards did some undercover work but he'd never been able to pick out who was in charge of it all. Even now, knowing who it was, he couldn't think of any evidence that would have made him suspicious of Cadence. His respect for her was growing steadily over the course of this unexpected conversation. She would have made an excellent thief. He lifted his eyes from his cider and looked absently out the window, "It's not the dungeon I'm worried about my lady, though I wouldn't say I'm too excited about it either. No, it's rather the fact that one of us was going to have to be the fool today, and I'm just a bit embarrassed it was my turn. I'm sure you're well aware of how many times I've been caught before, or haven't been caught, as it were." He turned back to face the princess again still absently curling a wingtip around his pen, "But I suppose you don't really care about that. I am just a despicable ruffian after all; not, how did you put it, a gentlecolt. That one was my favorite I think; you looked so sincere." He took a drink of cider, "But, I'm rambling I think. I assume you're about to make some sort of deal with me, or at least make me an offer? Why else would I still be sitting here and not sitting on the castle walls, my head on a pike and my entrails feeding the birds." He glanced at the cider cabinet, feigning discretion.

Chapeau resisted the urge to jump when the guards barged in through the door, hoping they were just here to deliver a message. Those hopes were dashed, ground into the floor, and swept into the waste bin as Cadence began to speak again, a frosty edge to her voice now. "...I believe that it is time we discussed the actual reason you are here, Mister Fire. Or...should I say...Chapeau? Yes, I know who you are...I've known for a while now. How about we get down to business...shall we?" Well, Chapeau thought, this is bad. He'd been caught. How humiliating. Months of planning, dozens of disguises, mere days away from his goal, and to be found out now, so late in the game? It made him ashamed to think of himself as a master. Sitting in front of Princess Cadence, with guards ready to skewer him on cue, Chapeau Stunning felt completely, horribly, monstrously... Impressed. He took a swig of the cider still held in a hoof, eyeing the guards' spears as he did so. Placing the glass down again, he met Cadence's gaze levelly, abandonning the annoying Manehatten accent. The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile, "I must say princess. Of all the ponies I thought were on to me, you were the one I least suspected. You put on a very convincing show of trust and I applaud you for it. I even entertained the illusion that we might be becoming friends, a feat indeed, I must say. Perhaps you could tell me your secret for my next visit?" He sipped his cider again, hooves steady as he forced himself to stay calm and survey the scene he found himself in.

Of course! Now you remember! The mare's name is Moon Walker. A pretty name for a pretty mare. Moon Walker suddenly feels the overwhelming, unexplainable urge to get out of bed and get going with the day. She hops out of bed and quickly brushes her black and white mane and tail, getting all those nasty tangles out that seem to just appear overnight. Afterwards she gives her pale grey coat a good brush, simply enjoying the feel of being clean. As a final touch she grabs her black scarf and throws it around her neck with a toss. She looks simply gorgeous, if she does say so herself. Now that she is ready to face the day, it's time for breakfast. She trots downstairs into her livingroom, through the dining room, and enters the small kitchen. A simple bowl of oats will suffice for now. As she chews she picks up the day's paper and flips to the funny pages, as everyone does, despite whether or not they admit it.

An OOC for all your crazy little questions to run free!

It is a quiet morning in a small, unassuming little house. The sun has just risen, the birds are singing, and the skies are clear except for a few scattered puffs of cloud. Unfortunately, this day will not remain quiet for long, in fact is is destined to get about as bucked-up as it is possible for a day to get, but that will come later. At the moment, the owner of this particular house is just waking up. She stirs beneath the sheets, her head pops out from under the covers, and she looks at herself in the mirror across the room. Holy crap! She's a pony! Of course this comes as very little surprise to her. In fact, it comes as no surprise at all. The owner of this house has been a pony for years, maybe even since she was born. We can hardly keep refering to her so anonymously though. That would get old fast. I'm sure she has a name, but she's a coy little thing she is and would like you to guess what it is, rather than tell you. So, what is her name?