Bronco

anyone wanna put together any kind of rp ideas?

( Yeah Patch wouldn’t have rubbed shoulders with really any of the main cast. As for the device, I figured it was placed in like a lanyard around her neck. Again, my bad.)

Patch eyed the mare, tapping his right hind hoof against the floor in thought. His mouth hung slightly agape, as if he was ready to speak but couldn't quite form the words yet. He did begin to pickup on the details of his environment, noting that there were far too many amenities for the space to serve as a surgical area. He also noticed some new information regarding his condition. If he indeed had been consuming such great amounts of the vial concoctions, he'd be experiencing some kind of hangover. Instead, he found himself sound of mind and free of any head aches. As puzzling as it was, his whereabouts couldn't possibly be the result of an enthusiastic night out. That, or he was finally reaching alarmingly high levels of tolerance. "I got a feeling I didn't mess with them in the first place." he stated, more to himself than the mare. He finally scooted off the cot and stood. He remained steady, though he did feel stiff as he rolled his neck and allowed his horn to faintly glow. The routine was over in a matter of seconds, leaving Patch relatively limbered and free to further investigate the room. He had begun to move to a cabinet when the mare gave her name. "Patch," he answered as he continued examining the wall fixtures. "And last I checked, my apartment wasn't a tree. Rent's way to high for that," He finished with the cabinet, now directing his attention fully on his "hostess", noticing the frame she had been fiddling with earlier now hanging around her neck. "Y'know that picture'd probably look better on a shelf."

(Shoot sorry for the lack of detail on what species Patch was. Looks like I’m updating his OC sheet again. He was a Pegasus, but like you said, he’ll remain a unicorn.)

Patch rolled in the bed, bumping his snout against cold steel as he did so. Recoiling with a grunt, his hooves shot to the assaulted portion of his muzzle as he rose in the cot. After some aggravated rubbing he took in his surroundings, his hooves slowly dropping from his face as his mind was boggled. This...this was not his apartment, instead resembling something similar to an operating room. He squinted as he examined the mare across from his bed, following her movements as she scratched away at a picture frame. Following her forelegs up to her face, the hetero chromatic eyes of what he imagined was a nurse of some sort served to peak his interest. It was then the bat wings that completely jostled him from his groggy state. He swung his hind legs out of the bed, allowing them to tap against the cold floor. Bat wings told him two things: 1) this was not Manehattan General, as his hospital had no bat ponies in their employ, and 2) If he wasn't housed in Manehattan General, he was not housed in Manehattan. "Saddle Ragers.....never again," was all he grumbled to himself. Of course, he was referring to a popular concoction assembled by city bartenders. Essentially a mixture of high proof ciders and energy drinks, Saddle Ragers made for fantastic benders. It was also clear that the disheveled doctor believed his current situation to be the result of one said benders, and that he was merely far from home. Perhaps further than he thought......

oh damn for real 😲

I don't think it's a big mystery that this place died, but to anyone who's left, what's up?

(sorry got real busy real quick, nearing finals and down to crunch time. Probably not gonna post, my bad.)

(sure thing and thx, I'll have a response up soon)

(Heyooooooo, didn't think I'd see another rp starting on this site. Mind if I join?)

We're all kind of waiting for this to catch fire again honestly Raptorvelo, but if this does somehow manage to pull through you'd have to ask the topic creator.