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Found 209 results

  1. "Ah'll see you tonight at the festival, everypony!" Apple Bloom shouted at her rapidly emptying classroom before dashing off herself. The little yellow filly was SO excited to get out of school that she didn't even wait for her friends. She ran home and gobbled her dinner before dashing off to the hayloft in the barn. This is where she had hidden her costume, a less-than-spectacularly creative costume she dubbed "The Ghost Rider"; after a old comic book she had seen one of her cousin's out in Appleloosa reading, about a ghost horse in the old west who fought crime. Her costume was, simply put, a sheet with holes cut out for her eyes. More elaborately, the little filly had carefully sewn the costume to be form-fitting, complete with independently-moving leg-coverings, and several layers of a gauzy material, the second-to-outermost painted using this special kind of paint that would glow in the dark. The rest of her legs were painted with the same phosphorescent paint, and her mane and tail utilized the same paint in a mixture with some conditioner that would be easy for her to wash out later. She even cunningly installed a special thin saddlebag to hold any treats she might get during the festival that was nearly indistinguishable from the rest of her costume. She painted a bare apple tree surrounded by the ghosts of apples on both of her flanks, looked in the mirror that she has smuggled into the hayloft, her secret hideout even from her best friends, for a second. "Lookin' good, Apple Bloom" she laughed. This was going to be the best joke ever. The normally straightforward, and practical....if not a tiny bit bossy...filly wasn't one who would ordinarily pull pranks on her friends. But something about the harvest festival just brought out an orneriness in her. Maybe it was the whole "trick or treat" idea, but she just had to play a good joke on her friends and family. "Ah jus' hope I can fool all my friends into not knowin' it's me." she beamed at her reflection. "An' then trick that ol' sister o' mine into believin' that I got my cutie mark, and that it's jus' somethin' so awful that she'll take pity on me and get me some of them caramel apples! Home-made apples is good, but those ones at the carnival are SPECTACULAR!" She shook her flank to dry it off, then carefully donned her costume, doing a funny little dance as she shook the costume to cover all of her posterior. Finally she crowned the look with one of Applejack's old hats that she had painted with the phosphorescent paint, and for good measure an old toy sherriff's star and a paisley bandana painted in the same paint to make sure that everypony got the point that she wasn't just any ghost, she was a ghost from the ol' West! As a final added touch she blackened the area around her eyes with some charcoal and assessed herself again. Her vibrant red and amber eyes shone back at her, rather sinisterly surrounded by the glow and her shrouds, and she shivered. "Ah sure do look spooky!", she added, standing in the light for a few moments to make sure that her costume was fully charged for maximum glow. She hid the purloined mirror under the hay where it had been hidden, climbed out of the loft and took off with as much speed as she could muster to the direction of the festival. Nopony was going to be able to figure out who she was!
  2. There were defiantly better places then the middle of the desert to be hauling such a large wagon, but Page Turner wasn't complaining. Still, he was envying those on the train that was rushing past. While a portable bookstore bought in good business, a stationary one would certainly be a lot easier run and maintain. It wasn't until the last carriage had flown past that Page finally perked up, remembering just why his business was on wheels. The small town of Appleoosa greeted his tired eyes, giving the rest of his body the serge of energy it needed to travel the final stretch. It had been quite a while since Page was here last. His stay in Canterlot wound up taking a lot longer then expected, due to an offer to purchase a collection of old spell-books. But he was home, st least what he considered his home. While Appleoosa was hard living, it was pleasant, and some of the most wonderful ponies he know lived there. But there was nothing that could keep Page from traveling and seeing the wonders of the world, so he hadn't bothered purchasing any sort of land. The wagon slowly creaked through town, its owner waving at the occasional pony. Rounding a corner, Page finally found himself at the far end of town, his favorite spot sitting vacant. The stallion’s grin widened as he parked perfectly with years of practice. He sat down for a bit without even unhitching, enjoying the brief moment of rest. Nothing had changed since last time. His view of the untouched dessert was still as beautiful as ever, the light drone of ponies in the town going about their business, and the terrible heat of the afternoon sun beating on his back. Everything was perfect. With a contented sigh, Page slipped out of the harness and trotted to the back of the wagon. After a quick check to verify that everything was in order, he lockup up the wagon and began heading to the town center. His hooves were killing him, but he just wanted to make sure with the Sheriff that he could still stay here and set up shop for a little while. Then he was getting something from the tavern. Something much stronger then apple juice was called for.
  3. The Gallopocus Island's weather was always hot and sticky, it was a tropical island after all. The plants relished in the moisture. Green was abound everywhere, from the treetops in the canopy to the floor of the forest. There was many different animals going about their daily lives in this green heaven. Their calls and cries combined to make a sort of peaceful and very serene background noise. This was shattered intermittently by a rather rhythmic “PING" coming from somewhere in the distance. These strikes came at regular intervals just a tad slower than a moderate walking speed. If one were to listen closely they would be able to her a faint melody twisting and twirling its way around these sharp and harsh strikes. There was a metallic quality to the strikes that was alien to the very natural environment that they were pealing through. They may have been strange and alien but they were definitely the cadence that the lighter more familiar tune was using to keep its self in time. A quick walk through the forest in the direction of the tune and the cries of metal a small shop could be found. The whistle was emanating from there and so were the strikes of metal on metal. It was not a large shop, but then again not too small. Two stores in the main part seemed to be embedded into the side of the mountain that sheerly rose up into the clouds. There was a small house connected to the shop, this was also embedded into the face of the cliff. Large white barn doors were open on the front of the Shop and the whistling poured out of there. The inside of the shop was dingy, dusty, and most of all dark with smoke and soot. There were four forges in the shop proper. The two towards the front were normal forges, albeit large but they had two stage billows and up-draft chimneys. The two towards the back, however, seemed to be of a different sort. They looked like that they were almost part of the mountain that formed the back wall of the shop. Formed out of the stone and fired by an unknown source. Flames leaped from the maw of one of these forges. Before this forge stood a truly massive pony. He wore an odd smirk on is face as he watched the fire heat some unknown object. He retrieved a pair of tongs and quickly pulled the almost white hot metal out of the forge, the front edge of which sparked and sizzled in protest of the sudden temperature change. He roughly placed the wedge shaped metal onto the anvil that was close at hand. He reared up on his hind legs, he stood rather tall for a pony. He made sure that his aim was dead on and brought a hoof down on the steaming lump of metal. “CLANG!" Sparks flew out in all directions. Again. “PING!" The metal seemed to be protesting this beating. And again.“CLING!" The colour of the metal had changed from white hot to a dull red. He returned to all fours and put the metal back in the furnace. He looked away from the furnace and sighed. He wiped his brow with a dirty piece of cloth and smiled up into the rafters of his shop. “Akh lookin' mer an mer leek ahn acks ain't eet?" His voice boomed over the shop. It seemed from years and years of working in very loud conditions he had forgotten how to talk softly. “Yah yah, dat stheel iz herd tah geet tah co-up-er-ate bah unce et dahs. Ye gut ahn acks dat wheel last ya fer-evah." His voice was up-beat and bright in comparison to his surroundings, the“R's" rolling ever so slightly. He chuckled at his unseen companion before returning to his work. The whistling and the cadence of metal on metal soon filled the shop and the surrounding area yet again.
  4. Crystal Towers had not been expecting the sandstorm. It made sense, really. They were on the border of a desert, and they'd had wind even back in the city. Despite the research she'd done (all four hours of it), it just hadn't occurred to her that sometimes wind and sand might get... really friendly. She was an earth pony, not a pegasus! She didn't spend a lot of time thinking about wind. Well, this was what she'd signed up for. Her mother had tried to convince her to start her venture out somewhere easier. Somewhere closer to home, like Saddleveil Plains. “At least they get rain there, sweetie,” her mother had said. “But chili peppers are spicier when they're grown in hot, dry places!” Crystal had replied. It seemed like a good rationale at the time. There had been some ruckus and hurrying when she'd got off the train; perhaps she should have paid attention. She'd just assumed that ponies greeted relatives really enthusiastically here. Occasionally she heard someone shout, “Get inside!” But she had just thought that it was intended for one of the hoof-ful of other train passengers, and that the next garbled phrase she heard over the wind was something like, “Get inside! It's time for pie!” She had been rather groggy at the time. Perhaps she should have tried to get some sleep on the train ride down. She'd gotten about quarter a mile out of town, towards her newly-purchased plot of land, when the sandstorm struck. Fortunately, if growing up mostly indoors had taught her anything, it was how to build forts out of whatever's available. She was currently cowering under three suitcases and an overnight bag, forming a three-sided shelter with a roof. This left one side open, with her purple, chili-pepper-marked flank sticking out the end of it. She rather hoped the wind didn't change directions. The wind picked up for a moment, and Crystal braced her makeshift shelter. “This is going to ruin my Poni Vuitton luggage,” she grumbled, trying to pretend it was her biggest problem. The wind slacked, and after a minute or so, Crystal could swear she heard hoofbeats. It was either that or it was her eardrums pounding after all that wind. Not daring to peek out of her safe haven, she called out. “Hello? Is anypony there?”
  5. The sun was starting to set as Northern Lights approached the Corn Maze. Her saddle bags were already full of goodies and treats. She almost never left the Everfree Forest, except to go back home to Canterlot, but the festival in Fillydelphia was a family tradition when she was a little foal. Her sister informed her she was too big for that little filly stuff anymore, but Northern is nothing if not a foal at heart, and couldn't resist. The dark blue unicorn mare's horn glows as she pulls out her fair map. "So, I wanna do the haunted house after dark, and I don't want to carry a pumpkin around, so I guess next is the maze, eh, little guy?" She tosses her shaggy, unkempt mane out of her eyes and grins as a small brown nose peeks from her bags. Her hedgehog friend, Ipsum, was happily eating some toffee, a small golden crown perched on his head. Cap bells jingling, the pony giggles. "Oh, greedy King Ipsum, if you eat too much of those, you'll get a tummy ache!" Her costume is a court jester, with a two pointed cap and a red and black harlequin outfit, all bedecked in bells. She never had much time for spooky outfits, preferring fun and playful. And what is a court jester without a king? Ipsum wrinkles his nose at her, then peeks around.The little quilled ruler rarely got to eat candies and he was taking full advantage of every minute. Heading to the maze entrance, she pays her entry fee and starts to wander. After a few turns, she's already well lost, the tall corn cutting off her path in front of her. "Rats... stuck already.. any ideas, your majesty?" she asks, turning to peek at Ipsum in her bags. But all she finds are empty candy wrappers. She checks her other saddlebag, but no hedgehog. Oh no! Did he climb out to try and find more treats? Biting her lip, she looks around frantically. The little fat hedgehog would never be able to find his way out of this maze on his own.. he's certainly lost. "Ipsum... IPSUM!" she cries, dashing off through the stalks.
  6. Grim Moire walked slowly, deep in thought. Tonight he was attending the First Annual Traverse the Maize Challenge, where ponies and other creatures attempt to make their way through a maze of corn before sunrise. Grim was dressed up in a purple suit, his face painted white with a big red grin stretching from ear to ear. He carried with him a sack filled with various items that he intended to scare others with, no matter who it was he scared. He hoped beyond hope that one of the princesses would attend the Challenge, just so he could scare them. As he approached the maze, he saw that there were very few ponies here, but that was to be expected; many ponies would be out trick-or-treating, or visiting the haunted houses. So Grim waited patiently near the entrance to the maze, his sack of "gifts" at his side.
  7. Tinny beamed with excitement at the sight of his little stand finally... well, standing. Sure, it was a ramshackle little thing, but the spicy smorgasbord on top more than made up for it; there were peppers fresh and dried, sauces and oils of every sort, and even a few pleasantly (or painfully) piquant baked goods out on display. The bounty of his fall harvest and all the family know-how he could muster had gone into this little endeavor, it was finally time to put his skill as a salesman to the test. With all the grit and grin of an old cart seller, he drew out out his beloved banjo and leaned on the counter to strike himself a fanfare. Come one an' all, y'all gather round, Anaheim Peppers are back in town! Big ripe bells for your salad mix, habaneros for your firey fix! Oils to soothe your muscles sore, clean your commodes and much, much more! Special t'day, our salsa treats, Peppers fresh and tomatoes sweet, Out for free for y'all to try, so grab a sample! Stop on by! True to his word, Tinny had ladled out paper cups of his very best salsas, each set beside a basket of flatbread and few price-tagged jars of the very same. There were some full of a rich red paste, chunky with onions and tomatoes; others were filled with a fine green sauce speckled with diced jalapenos and spices; and then there were a few filled with a brilliant orange salsa that seemed as though it would like nothing more than to set fire to its containers. “Come on, come on, now! Anypony here think they got the pallet for a taste of the Ol' Anaheim Fire?!”
  8. All night, Gravity had tossed and turned in bed, her tiny wings fluttering and stretching as her mind was a swirl of dips and dives, feeling weightless as she climbed high amid the clouds for the first time. In her dream, the little appendages usually tucked idly at her sides had grown and flourished into massive wings several times the size of her body, carrying her higher and higher as cloudy streams trailed behind her. Tears welled in her eyes as her heart was flooded with the purest joy she'd ever known, simple and exuberant, casting all her cares to the wind. She felt as though she could be like this forever, and never land on earth again, until dark storm clouds slowly gathered themselves around her, rumbling with thunder. She climbed higher in an attempt to escape, but the dark clouds gathered faster and blotted out the light of the sun, until she could barely see her hooves in front of her face. The joy drained from her heart to be replaced with panic as it grew darker, and a streak of lightning pierced the blackness to strike the feathers of her wings. The strike sparked tiny glowing embers that climbed the length of her feathers to swiftly singe them away. Though, strangely, she couldn't feel any pain in this dream turned nightmare, the horror was all too real as she began to tumble down through the air, gaining speed as her large body twisted and bucked out of control. She felt her heart slamming in her chest as she screamed, trying desperately to grasp for passing clouds, for any chance of stopping her swift descent, but her heavy hooves only crashed through the grey fluff, as the earth seemed to rush up toward her. "NOOOO!!" Gravity bucked herself straight out of bed and slammed to the floor below with a ragged gasp, her yellow eyes flung wide open as she panted for breath. Quickly realizing it had only been a dream, she sniffs roughly and brings her wrist up to wipe at the wetness on her cheeks. She was lying in a tangled heap of sheets and blankets on the floor, her pale pink hair frizzed and tangled as well from the fitful sleep. She takes a slow, deep breath, and lets it back out again in a husky sigh before carefully squirming herself out of the mess, not bothering to gather her bedcovers off the floor. She strides across the bedroom to the small mirror hanging near the door, looking at herself quietly. She was tired of these awful dreams, and of simply accepting defeat, accepting that flight was impossible. Maybe it was impossible to make her wings grow bigger, but that didn't mean she couldn't look for other ways. She sniffs and wipes what's left of the tears in her eyes away, her face drawing into a look of determination. She spent several days drawing plans and building contraptions, until finally she had something that maybe, just maybe, could work, packing it up and situating it on her back before starting the short journey to the outskirts where some tall hills awaited. Leaping off a mountain was far too dangerous, and she needed somewhere at least a bit more private than the top of her house to jump off of. If she crashed, at least she wouldn't suffer the embarrassment of doing so in front of anypony else. Finally, she reached the top of one of the hills and looked back at her tail to be sure of which direction the wind was blowing. A lump was slowly growing in her throat as she unpacked the mysterious contraption and strapped it on, and with the pull of a cord, two huge wings made of sturdy wood and thin tarp sprang outward at her sides. The wind immediately swept under them, and Gravity could feel the slightest sensation of lift as the wood creaked gently beneath the tight wrap of tarp. Her heart raced; she knew better than to be too hopeful, but if she could even just manage a glide.. No more waiting. With a few deep in-and-out breaths, her heart thundering in her chest with anticipation, she charges forward and leaps off the edge of the hill. She almost seems to hang in the air for a brief moment as the wind gusts beneath her makeshift wings, and for that tiny moment she allows herself to hope, until... CRASH! SMASH! TUMBLE! BANG! Like a boulder, Gravity is true to her name, and goes hurtling down to earth after leaving the edge of the hill, gliding for all of a second or two before simply tumbling head over hooves all the way back down to flat land, her makeshift wings tattered and ruined by the time she reaches the bottom.
  9. CRASH! KABOOM! The weather team had really outdone themselves this time; it was still early evening, but the sky was already darker than Nightmare Moon's dreams, save for the ocassional flash of lightning ripping across the skies, illuminating the billowy black clouds and silhouetting everything on the ground. The rain poured down in buckets, creating small streams in the dirt, smacking the leaves in the trees and creating an awful racket. Tatatatatatatatatatata... Most of the inhabitants of the peaceful Ponyville had long since made their way indoors to avoid the torrential downpour; after all, a storm of this magnitude could hardly be stopped at this point, it would be much too dangerous to fly into a lightning storm! Still, a lone carriage made it's way into the storm-besieged town, drawn by one pony, and strangely enough being pushed by a second pony. The pony at the back was a strange sight in the peaceful town; a pegasus fillie garbed in a set of bulky, clunky iron armor, chipped and dinged, rusted in places (certainly the rainstorm did little to help this) and now caked in mud. The wheel of the carriage appeared to be cracked, and so the fillie had taken it upon herself to help the travellers safely reach the town. "We can take it from here, ma'am!" The pony drawing the carriage shouted over the downpour. "Thank you so much for your help! If there's something we can do to repay you..." "It's no problem at all, just doing my duty!" The fillie replied. "Safe travels!" With a nod, the driver took the carriage on down the road, leaving the armored stranger standing in the rain. Her name was Kite, and as she watched the carriage proceed down the road and get lost in the haze of the downpour, she wondered nervously if she'd done well; after all, it was the duty of a knight to help others, and her dream to be a knight! Standing in the rain, she certainly felt good for helping, but she didn't feel anymore knightly than before; if anything, she was just soaked. A REAL knight would have gotten them to town before the brunt of the storm had hit, after all. Looking around, the wannabe knight sought someone else to help out, though it seemed that the storm had scared the population indoors. "I wonder if maybe I could stop the storm... certainly the townsfolk would appreciate that..." She looked up at the sky, which seemed to grumble ominously in response. "Eh... maybe not..." Kite shook the idea from her mind; what she had in desire to become a knight, she certainly lacked in confidence and self esteem. The pegasus instead averted her eyes from the sky, looking for shelter; standing in the rain was helping nobody, and she was tired and sore from her journey from Canterlot. The fillie could barely see her own hoofs in the downpour though, and instead opted to grab shelter under a nearby tree, hoping to wait out the storm. From the looks of things though, it was going to be a long, stormy night!
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