Snowshoe

Muggo' Ale had finally had time to settle down, after a repeated string of adventures. He didn't mind, of course: they were with some good friends of his, after all. But he loved his bar, and he'd had to leave it far too much. He'd returned a week ago from Itaily, and was happy to just relax, especially given that winter was on its way, and he quite enjoyed that time of year.

He'd gotten Caramel Apple's letter a day or two ago, quite happy to hear from her again. With how busy he'd been, and, he guessed, how busy she was too, they hadn't had time for much beyond the occasional letter. But, this time was different, and now Muggo' was making sure he was looking proper for another date.

Dressed in a nice shirt and rather warm jacket (given that there was snow already on the ground), he pulled on his usual hat and stepped out of the bar. Today was actually one of his days off, and as such had the entire day, and evening, free. As the sun slowly started to make its way down toward the horizon, Muggo' Ale made his way out of the city, toward Tiny Apple Valley.

He trotted up the path to the house and raised a hoof to knock at the door. He was excited to see her again, because he quite liked Caramel. A good sense of humour, and an ability to just let loose and enjoy herself, despite the stress of having to run a major operation like the Apple family finances. Not too much of one side, or the other. He stepped back from the door and waited for somepony to open it.

Already posted in this thread a while back, but I want to update with a new band I just discovered:

Two Steps from Hell. They do awesome movie trailer scores and orchestral tunes. Their main use? Making anything awesome. Seriously, just play that when you're doing anything. Suddenly you're vacuuming your room to SAVE HUMANITY, or something.

[sorry for das post delay. Wasn't around much the last few days.]

----

Muggo' Ale was feeling confident about his chances. One on one against a griffon in a confined space, where he couldn't use his wings to his advantage.

And then the female one screeched and took off after him.

"Oh, Celestia t'underin'..." he grunted. He wasn't quite ready for this, but set himself up anyways with as much time as he had. He held firm, hoping to lower his centre of gravity enough that the charge against him wouldn't do much.

And, just for good measure, he lowered his head to try and catch the griffon in the stomach, still looking up a bit to stop any weapons with his own.

Twist: everypony loves Big Mac.

Just some equipment for survival training.

I imagine you of all people would understand the importance of preparing for life after the apocalypse.

:3

You betcha. I've been training my Lockpick all week

As for Wind Rider, it'd be best for him to wait until we leave the Castle and are exposed to the growing storm.

You got it.

Alright, I didn't have any dinner so I had to improvise.

>Stalker

>Two Nerf Mavericks

Aside from Artax's (the voice actor in me wants a recording studio at my desk), this is my favourite battlestation.

Just wanted to check, this is the thread Wind Rider's needed for, yeah?

Interesting, there seems to be an even spread of both laptops and desktops so far. Usually it's heavily to one side or the other.

Oh god I'm such a slob... why do you boys have to have such good desktops and make me look so bad?

[snip]

>Slob

Go back and look at my desktop xD that's on a good day. Usually I've got about a dozen pop cans, a couple empty plates, etc.

Dat battlestation, Artax. Loving the guitar. I'm a Gibson man meself, got an Epiphone SG in my room.

Der Sturmmann's battlestation:

As you can see I'm not a very neat man.

Edit, I may also go ahead and redo this picture with a neater desktop, and with my desktoppers in place (I have a model car sitting on my printer).

Being on the edge of the hurricane and a low pressure system coming in over my area, we got some bitter winds and rain but nothing major. My buddy in Maryland lost power a few times, but they're otherwise fine. Other than that, I know New York and New Jersey are currently swimming.

Well, you could modify the names of some actual aerobatic stunt teams (So like, Snowbird (The Canadian Forces Snowbirds), Silver Swallow (The Silver Swallows, Irish Defence Force), etc) or aerobatic stunts (like Chandelle, which literally means candle but actually refers to a stunt, Hammerhead, something involving loops, Wingover, etc). Other than that, you can try playing up the airborne aspect of it (Something involving eagles/falcons or other birds of prey, clouds, etc). I'm terrible at pony names, though xD So just a couple ideas.

Edit:

Aerobatic stunts

Teams can be found easily on Wikipedia, just type "Aerobatics".

"Ha!...Oh." Muggo' Ale had noticed just how relatively weak the material of the chair was. His intention had been to knock out, or at least daze, the griffon that was attacking him.

It did entangle him though, which was alright by Muggo's way of thinking. He quickly galloped for the door, using the griffon as little more than a carpet, before taking off down the hall. Best to get out into the open, where Muggo' had a bit more room to manoeuvre.

Or at least regroup with Fire and Dunder, who could back him up.

Of course, that also left one marauding pirate around. So Muggo' Ale turned, holding his sword between his teeth, ready to turn back the griffon's attacks and hopefully knock him out quickly, before the fight turned toward the griffon's favour.

Oooh, a rather mild rejection from the one mare. Oh well. Timbre wasn't put off all that much by it, and at the moment felt a little bit odd, and rather stupid. The alcohol had definitely acted as a replacement for actual courage, so here he was accidentally barging in on a group of friends out for a night on the town, and attempting to pick up one of them.

He did look over at Luna when she spoke though, giving her a respectful tilt of the hat when she was done. "Je m'excuse, Princesse. I am usually a little more polite zen zis. I must say it 'as been an, uh...absolute pleasure to make you're acquaintance," he said, and quite sincerely, too. And now he'd have to be on his best behaviour, lest he ruin a royal night out.

"I'll be leaving you to your evening. Bonsoir a tout," Timbre Swing said. He was about to get up again when another pony walked over, this one he recognized on sight (but not ever having met her). Who else but one of the most well known, and beautiful, actresses around...Fleur-de-Lys.

"Et bonsoir a vous, Madamme." He wasn't worried about his usual accidental slips into his native tongue. He had a feeling she spoke it, and if she didn't, it was fairly simple to understand he was greeting her. Timbre Swing got up from the bar, taking a glance back at the bartender. "I don't suppose zere's every open mic for lesser known acts?" he half-joked. If there was, he might be able to get some recognition out of the night, despite his earlier attempts to not work.

Muggo' grinned at Wind Walker, pointing a hoof at an older poster on the wall. It showed nine pegasi in bright red uniforms, one standing tall in the middle and four on either side. 'Frecce Volanti' was printed across the bottom, and above, a blue sky. "See them? Means the Flyin' Arrows in Itailian. Point o' the matter is, speed ain't everythin'. Ya want to be the best pegasus in yer class? Ya gotta be more than fast. Gotta be agile, too," he explained. Charging into something too fast would probably get her in trouble. "I'm sure yer a fine flyer, though. Better than I am," he joked.

Muggo' Ale winced visibly as Wind spoke about Fire and Dunder's relationship, wanting to stay as far from that can of worms as possible. He instead looked at Wind when she tried to puppy-dog eye him. He chuckled and tipped his hat back a bit. "Sorry, but Fire an' yer parents are the bosses. I can't do much t'help," he said with a shrug. "So, a trip to Itaily, hmm?" he asked as he poured out the drink for Dunder and stuck his head through the window behind the bar.

"Rev up those fryers, b'y. Got one order o' hay fries," he called out before trotting back to the bar.

"I'm down for it. Ya two keep pullin' me away from me bar but at least this time, it's not goin' to result in a new scar," he teased. "Can't say I've ever been out Itaily way," he added as he passed Dunder his drink. "S'all on the house," he added, to all his friends, even the sorta-unknown to him Swift.

"[colour=#282828]Content - Posts should remain civil, responsible and free from vulgar, abusive words & statements and expressions of a derogatory manner."[/colour]

[colour=#282828]Yeeeeah...you seem like an alright guy but I'm fairly sure this is covered under the "abusive statements/expressions" category of Da Rulez. [/colour]

Dapper Dan listened politely to her cutie mark story, nodding. It was quite the story, and rather noble, to stand up for oneself and for others like that. He smiled a bit and laughed when she asked about his own story.

"Mine?" He asked, shrugging a bit. "It's not as interesting. I grew up around my father's barbershop in Fillydelphia. I used to love hanging out, chatting with the regulars whenever they came by. After teaching me the basics, my Dad let me try it one day, and I did quite well. Got my cutie mark that day, and a regular customer of my own." He broke off a bit when he heard a voice and hoofsteps coming up. It was one of the larger ponies from earlier...Shadow Boxer if he remembered right.

"Oh, hey. Yeah, I'm loving the hoedown so far. What about you?" he asked. "It's...Shadow Boxer, right?" he asked, just wanting to make sure he got his name right. He smiled a bit and idly pushed his glasses back up his nose. He needed to get them refitted, they kept slipping on him.

"Thank you kindly, Apple Cinnamon." He was happy that he was doing so well, usually used to cutting stallion's hair and doing only basic stylings. To get compliments about it was great.

He levitated over the comb and scissors and got to work with the actual cutting and styling, while the others spoke. He couldn't help but laugh at how giddy the girls were getting, noticing Thorn in the background looking a bit bored.

"Not a fan of shopping I see, Thorn?" he teased.

I've owned Forza 3 for about a year and a half now.

I just noticed today there was an easier way of creating elaborate car designs when attempting to make my BMW E90 into a Rarity-based car. I feel like a derp.

I also tried taking a Toyota Trueno, painting it purple with Twilight's cuite mark, and tried to make it into a drift car based off of tunes online. It's cool but hard as heck to do without a steering wheel.

If you're going to do this, I'd suggest supporting local-level charities and shelters. Sorry, but while PETA has good intentions, they've done enough stupid stuff to turn me off from ever fully supporting them. Meanwhile, usually the local stuff actually get things done, and rather well.

Timbre Swing leaned back against the bar, the dark drink in the glass floating next to him. He took occasional sips of the coffee flavoured drink, watching the newcomers. A fiery red mare in armour, probably one of Luna's guards, a brown mare, and another pegasus, this one a light brown. They all seemed to be part of Luna's...entourage? Strange, but then again, he'd never seen the Princesses out and about, or at anything other than a public, important function. He almost forgot at times they were (mostly) regular ponies like he, and would have friends and nights out.

He finished off his drink and set it down to watch the stallion preforming on stage. Oh, what he wouldn't give to be able to stand there, dressed in a dapper suit with his fedora and contrebasse, keeping the audience enthralled and jumping. This was a jazz club after all, and if there was something Timbre Swing was excellent at, it was swing jazz.

" 'e want to be Equestriano, Equestria~ano..." he mumbled quietly to himself, a song he'd been working on, and one of the only ones he sang in Equestrian, due to poor handle on the language. He heard a voice off to his side and turned with a start. The group he'd observed at the door was there at the bar, not a few feet from him.

And there he'd been, singing to himself like an insane pony. Still, he composed himself rapidly, tapping the brim of his fedora with a hoof, in case they caught them staring at them. He wanted to be polite, after all.

He looked back at the bartender with a bit of a grin. "Une autre, s'il-vous plait. It's going to be a long night for me," he said, paying for a second drink but not touching it quite yet. He had all the time in the world at the Speakeasy tonight and he was going to enjoy it, and would win his bits back later. He normally would be preforming but not tonight, because he didn't want to cut his time at the club short.

Deciding he'd just get it done with, he floated his drink over and downed the second quickly, leaving it on the bar along with a tip and trotting over to the group. "Bonsoir," he greeted casually. He hopped onto the stool next to Granola Gracie, his old habits returning in full force. "Especially to you, Madame. You all look...'ow you say...starstruck? First time at zee Speakeasy?" He asked casually, directing the first comment toward Granola. "Moi aussi. And my apologies if I am interrupting, I can leave," he added. Some ponies found his thick Fancy accent a bit distracting, if not downright annoying.

Muggo' Ale quickly recovered his bag amongst the clutter in the room and worked quickly to untie the knots around the hilt of the blade, keeping it in its sheath. It took a bit longer than he'd wanted but eventually it was free, and he drew the blade. Holding it tightly between his teeth he rounded on the door, watching it splinter. He had almost no time left to prepare, but he did get a quick plan in mind, turning around right as the door cracked apart from the griffon's attacks.

Muggo' Ale then bucked, kicking the writing desk chair across the room, and hopefully, into the griffon, enough to cause him to stumble into the hall and give him room to escape, because if he was cornered in the room alone, he would probably be defeated quite easily.

"Surprise, b'y!" he shouted as the chair soared across the room.

[Whoops, totally forgot about this.]

----

A purple-striped Kaskazini was having the time of this life, but before he could do much, another zebra (another one? He was surprised, not having seen many zebras outside Unyasi on his travels through Equestria) appeared, admonishing him for wanting to buy the recipe off of Flim and Flam. He couldn't help but let out a little smirk at how up-in-arms she appeared to be. "Relax, yeah? I ain't plannin' ta slip this inta somepony's tea or nut'in'. Be used as a harmless prank, seen?" he explained, hiccuping again. His stripes turned into alternating black and yellow.

"I can see dey be in a spot. Dis not be very fun right'a moment, but dey be told what dey drink? Might be funnier, yeah?" he pointed out as he watched idly. So Zecora could probably cure them, but so could that strangely-accented professor.

And speaking of, the professor had seem to have found it. He grinned and patted Flam on the back. "Ya done us a fright, seen?" he said casually. "De rest be alright, but not so much de dragon business," he continued.

He heard a voice from next to him, but the strange part was, it came from next to...and above, him. He turned to see a giant blue hoof nearby, and followed it up the leg to see a very giant Cloudchaser.

"Huh." That's all he could really think to say. He let out another little chuckle. "Dis be a bit on de unpredictable side, yeah?" he said casually. He'd probably have to tweak the recipe a little to prevent some dangerous things like this, or Flam's dragon transformation, from happening.

Hic!

His stripes turned a dull shade of mud. Delightful. He was still in high enough spirits though, recognizing that these effects were meant to amuse and not harm, though some effects could lead to harm. He looked over at the blind, flying pegasus, and gave a sharp whistle. "Follow de sound a my voice. We're gettin' de cure down here, if'n ya fly down."

Muggo' Ale stood strong next to the others, tilting his hat back. He saw Dusty take a slap across the face and moved to help him up, chuckling a bit. "Yer fine, b'y. Just a bit of a scratch, come on, on yer feet," he said.

He figured it was time to fight, and so fight he would. A diamond dog ran at them and Muggo' quickly swept his legs out from under him and bopped the dog on the head, knocking him out for a bit.

They were wearing the diamond dogs out, but the griffons were proving to be a bit more difficult. A couple of hits here and there and Muggo' was feeling rather sore, but still swinging and bucking like the best of them.

"This ain't workin'!" he shouted, retrieving his hat between bouts of boxing with one of the diamond dogs (they were currently on round five, with Muggo' in the lead). "We need a better plan up here, b'y!"