Apolline Allura

The last words he said were "Tell Allura, my master, that he has taught me well," before lack of ponies took him elsewhere.

Done and done. ^w^

"We were playing poker?" said Cutlass, ears perking up. She thought they were playing blackjack at the time. Why else was she intermittently yelling 'hit me' last night? Had she gotten that wasted? Oh Celestia... In any case, she shrugged, "At least she knew what game we were playing," and tapped Radiant on the shoulder, "I think we'll find your armors soon enough. I know thieves, and this place didn't happen by any last night." ("Aside of me.") Novaya's plan was quick and quiet. Something Cutlass was familiar with in her old line of work. Not that she didn't count on something going wrong at some point in time however. She had never taken an op like this, and it looked way too hazardous to be enough of a cakewalk that they'd slide in and slide back out unharmed. Not that it wasn't fine by her. A fight made any op interesting at the very least. "I've no questions Major," said Cutlass, finishing the last of her food. "I'm ready to begin whenever you are."

Cutlass didn't know whether or not to follow Neame. Of course this was the pony's house they'd came to see, and Rainbow Dash had let her know of their arrival, but Cutlass was a bit uneasy about running in without knocking first. It was a bit funny to her suddenly; a thief refusing to break and enter with clearance to do so. But it was part of their quest, and she had assured her that she and Muffin would be around for her, so she let Neame enter first before flanking her side, Muffin at the other. The place smelled. Of dragon. Cutlass' body tensed up, and her mouth twitched, wanting to pull the blade hanging on her side out. Just in case. Which is what she kept telling herself.

Blaze perked up a bit at the encouraging tap on the shoulder. It wasn't often things like that came from somepony other than Ash. The filly smiled at Rose, listening to her words and embracing them as she took them in, internalizing them and drawing new resolve. What she had planned next? Not even she knew. But there was surely another project in the works, in fact, there was definitely another project in the works. She could just feel it. Then she noticed that Rose had little weight on her herself, and figured they were going through the same issue more or less. When encountering a sort of lull in between life and inspiration to write, these things more or less just happened. Not spirals of downward sadness per se, but just how the times were. She could tell Rose still had a figure; it was just a little thrown off. As were her eating habits, she was sure. Blaze equated the well-being of one to their state of affairs. And with personal interests and hopes getting dashed by brief periods of inactivity and dead muses, the equine mind could only wait them out before they found the inspiration to keep going. A Single Note? Blaze wrinkled her muzzle in concentration, as she tried to pull the title from her memory. It sounded like something she had read when she was younger. It was....a horror story? The details were fuzzy, but Blaze was sure the book was sitting on one of her shelves. Or it was....the one shelf, with the sixteen books. Yes. Her birthday book shelf. "I'll have to read that one again, miss. I'm a bit young in the head, which means I'm short in the memory." she laughed nervously, hoping the mare wouldn't be offended. "Rest assured, I still have the fresh copy of when it was bought for me on my birthday. Clearly it had a presence enough that I'm going to drive myself crazy trying to remember the details." "Do you have any of the short stories with you? I'd love to read the--" It struck. Her quill poofed into existence between the two of them in a burst of light, jotting down prose and set up based on the abstract details collected from the encounter so far. And then it began to build. The process was lightning fast, and fleeting thoughts whispered things to her as the quill furiously scribbled against the back of the used parchment in her saddlebag. Two ponies...a filly and mare searching for success...tasting it once, and hungry for more...searching....despairing...meeting one another...providing motivation...a beautiful friendship... Was she getting too ahead of herself? She HAD just met Rose Madd- "Rose," she said, acknowledging her senior, "I've a proposal. Would you be my co-author? And allow me to be yours?"

Added a cutie mark story. I understand there may be some discrepancies with how he got his, because it was tied to a theory on magic that he came up with, but this is just how he sees it. Not defining itself because magic is an unpredictable force that needs manual control to be performed. Otherwise, I'm ready for him to go.

Okay. I've retconned her bottle fairy tendencies now. At this point, I really don't want to have to add much more. Her app is short, sweet and to the point. Granted, I know that there are rules, so give me the next prompt.

Check all sections for minor updates and clarifications.

Rabu? I recognize you. You're Phil's (or CrazyNinjaPenguin's) prereader, I think. You helped make Echoing on Fragile Winds a masterpiece, I believe. Or a decent story. Things look different in hindsight. XD Anyway, the name's Allura, and welcome to the site. I'm free for RP at anytime.

"Blaze Bright," said the filly, taking Rose's hoof against hers in kind and shaking with her, "and you flatter me, Madder, for not many ponies think the same of the author of this drivel." She pointed at her own book, "One Pony". Rose's words floated through her head once more and her ears perked up. "I've noted how it does all that you've just said, and I'm trying to fix it all." She tempered her sigh with a smile, "However, it'd seem that I'm in the same position as you. Dilly dally, shilly shally and such. I haven't had a decent idea in forever. It's got me so stressed, I..." The filly trailed off to look down at her belly wistfully, which was rounder than usual, thanks to all the foods Ashsmoke had warned her away from. "But to be fair, I'm an amateur, and I know it. That I was able to get this onto shelves, self funded and published is beyond me. And out in Trottingham, according to the letters I receive, it's flourishing..." Blaze laughed, "Too bad their currency doesn't match up as well as it does in Canterlot. They need ten of what they have to make a bit around here." Oh dear, was she fluffing herself? Blaze mentally admonished her vain manners, especially after intruding on another pony's space to talk to them. "I say too much. What's your project? It seems like it's just chomping at the bit to burst into life." She chuckled a bit at the empty page in front of the mare opposite of her.

By now, a number of ponies had went silent at somepoint when Dash began her story, and a few even stood up after Neame's explanation.They formed a circle around Cutlass and Muffin Top as Neame began pulling her tubes out and pointing out the discrepancies in Dash's story to many attentive faces. Even the cashier, who probably hadn't seen a more profitable day than this looked particularly interested in what was being discussed. Cutlass couldn't help but marvel at the architecture, how the gryphon's knowledge of geometry was put to such use. Even she, who hated math passionately could appreciate the originality and beauty of the work, The immaculate pyramids, and towering gryphon-shaped structures gave way to breathtaking views. Wanderlust waited for nopony though, and Cutlass knew that the more time they spent on the history lesson, the more time they were wasting and giving Frame time to track them down. Not that she couldn't handle a few guards, or fifty for that matter, but they had to be taking their leave soon enough to find Twilight Sparkle. "I see the crucial context of our mission now," said Cutlass, looking between Muffin and Neame, "but if we spend any longer here, we may lose the chance to resolve any of this." She turned, "I think it's time we went to see Twilight, Rainbow Dash. We can't afford to tarry much more." A brief pause. "And in before I have to buy you more coffee. Not that I mind." she said, facehoofing at the idea of how light her bag was getting.

Name: Noble Age: Teen Dragon Sex: Dragoness Eye Color: Indigo Scales: Green scales over most of her body, bloodred scales for her belly, and red wings with green trim. Horns/Claws: Gold horns curving upwards from the sides of her crown. Gold claws on her hands and feet. Additional Appearance Notes: Noble wears a set of silver bracers on her wrists and ankles. Physique: Average height and weight for a young teen dragon. Origin: Dragon Mt. Residence: Garden Gait Occupation: Freelance Dock Worker Motivation: Getting enough money together to build her own dream house where she can open a place to aid the needy. Likes: Helping others, catfish, flying, being prompt and a good drink. Dislikes: Others without a sense of humor, mean folk, poverty, milk, lateness and tap water. History: Noble was born on Dragon Mountain to her parents, a studious couple who were setting off on her birthday to see the world outside of the usual rough-and-tumble rituals of dragonkind's day to day life to hold them back. They moved around for a few years before settling on Canterlot, and making the city their home. Noble was skilled at delivering things at a young age, and her mother saw this, and worked to get her into the EPS (Equestrian Parcel Service), where she worked after she became old enough to fly on her own. She left home at some point, and took up freelance dock work, wanting to make a living for herself at first. The more unhappy lives she saw in her time amongst many different places in Equestria, Noble decided she wanted to give them a place too. A shelter of sorts, until they can get on their feet. Flaws: Noble can be generous to a fault, and give up much of herself to make others happy. She can overextend herself in her giving, appearing as a pushover at times. Or even just in her work. Noble knows her limits, but never goes by them, which usually ends up with her being on the receiving end of some less than favorable amounts of time to get things done, because she's usually filling up her schedule too much. Personality: Noble is very positive toward others, refusing to see the bad in them, however glaring it can be. At the same token, she doesn't tolerate laziness. She has great hopes for the future, and her dream and maybe even a love life. Although the last one is more an abstract thought that she's much to busy to consider seriously.

How Eloquence continued to move with little difficulty after taking on a glass of much heavier stuff than she was drinking, Spotlight would remain forever envious. The zebra was quick to get her out of the place and managed to keep her steady while she puked over the railing for a few minutes. Curses. The chances of her getting a name in her little black book were falling dropping exponentially, and the worst part was that said chances were dropping from her mouth into the tied trash bags below the staircase where El took her. "I..." -cough- "...wh-" -spit- "...nngh..." Spotlight managed to grab a napkin from her saddlebag and wiped her mouth at the very least. She took one look at Eloquence through her drunken haze and hit the ground, unconscious for the night.

Not at the moment, no. But I think I'll have something before the end of the day.

A new quill set, five bits. A scroll of parchment, ten bits. The cumulative total of these items bought in bulk? Eighty bits. Looking into her purse to find that she had fewer than twenty bits, and then reminiscing on how she had spent most of it on eating out in the past month? Priceless. Blaze Bright grumbled as she stepped out of the line, embarrassed at her own lack of self-control when it came to spending. And on top of that, she would have to go on some sort of diet to get rid of the few pounds she had added onto herself with her unusual craving for sweet things and other unhealthy foodstuff. It wasn't her fault, she tried to tell herself. It was a by-product of her writers block. It made her nervous, it depressed her a little, it sat on her shoulder, glaring disapprovingly every time she even had a thought. It was the kind of rut that frightened her right out of beginning a work, and right into starting a meal. The accursed pastry stores, all throughout the city, accentuating her problem by offering delicious treats that offered seconds-long escape from her problems while secretly adding onto them! How dare they have marzipan mascarpone meringue madness, right on the display cases? After all, it's not like her sister hadn't told her early on in life how eating too many sweets could really do a number on her figure if she wasn't careful. The red filly stalked the store with a rather dour look on he face before nearly passing a shelf with a copy of her own book, One Pony, sitting on the shelf. She scoffed as she levitated it to her face, and started wondering what bookstore would sully their shelves with her amateur script. "Hmph. They even charge fourteen bits for this bile," said Blaze, keeping the book held aloft with her magic as she scouted for a table to sit down at. There were enough open tables that she could spread out the contents of her bag upon one of them, but in her search, she caught the sight of a mare with a rather familiar longing gaze. Notebook and writing tool in front of her, she seemed to be grasping for straws in her thoughts. The curse of the writer, Blaze knew... 'One have a measure of masochism to be a writer. After all, who else could agonize over a thought for hours on end?' It was a quote she had shared with her sister once, when writing her first book. Blaze sat down in the chair adjacent to the mare, and set her bag on the floor and her book on the table. "A bit for your thoughts, miss," she said to the mare with small, sardonic smile, levitating her own inkwell and quill to the table as the book opened to the first page.

The first thing she noticed was that her the floor, the lights, and the smashed remains of her glass had gotten fuzzy...was her fur always so fuzzy too? She lifted a foreleg and stared at it for quite some time before giving it an experimental lick. Yup. Her fur was fuzzy indeed. Eloquence continued to give her the business from on her seat. Darn zebra. Didn't she know who she was? And just what the hay was a dodo bird? Wait....was she comparing her to--? She made to stand up, and slipped on her on her cabbie hat, which then prompted her to stay on the floor a few minutes longer. Spotlight rolled onto her back and pointed a hoof at Eloquence, "I'll be the...hye-een-ya when...YOU....um..." And it was through her now nearly destroyed command of the Equestrian language that she was able to summon one coherent sentence. "I'm going to throw up."

I want to keep this application. Right now, time and creativity are not meshing in a beneficial manner for me.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Spotlight was in the midst of demonstrating massive amounts of self control not to simply get cooked silly and stumble her way on up to the stool to start improvising poetry. At other junctures, for when they had real downtime, she would have been on her fifth right now, the wet contents of some bottle sloshing their way down her neck. But as it was, her image was more important to her than the fun she was having. Not that she couldn't just make up her own fun on the spot. Spotlight was the kind of mare that thrived from entertainment in more ways than one. "That one," she said to Eloquence, pointing a hoof at a mare waiting the door, looking down at the ground every now and then, "she's been stood up. Her date was probably a mare by the looks of her. I have a fooler radar that can detect anything, and she's one of em. Her cutie mark is a...oh my, it's a gift. And she looks rather well kept...shame about her date, but this must mean she was too good for her in the end...ouch." Spotlight usually got like this whenever she was tipsy. Suddenly becoming a relationship guru, despite the fact that her limited knowledge of romance all came from plays she was either in, or had seen. She turned to see poor Ghost Writer all alone at some empty table, and immediately felt a pang of guilt. Spotlight set a hoof on Eloquence's shoulder, about to bring her over to Ghost's table before a cream colored earth pony came into view. Her first instinct was to move straight in and protect the writer by laying a kiss on her cheek and telling him that she was taken, and the impulse grew stronger with the more whiskey she pounded down. "El...look over there..." said Spotlight, her words slurring a bit. "You see that? Look who's trying to hit on Ghost. Can you believe the brass ones on this guy?" she made to stand up. Who'd this stallion think he was? Trying to muscle his nonexistent muscles in on their Ghost Writer. Unfortunately, gravity seemed to tilt just enough for the mare to hit the ground, her cabbie hat flying off, and her head hitting the bar base just hard enough to bump the drink off the edge and onto her head. Her face was covered in shattered glass, sweet apple whiskey, and rivulets of blood from where the glass hit. It was probably not going too far to assume she had went over her limit for the night as she stared up at the ceiling through her dark shades.

Miasma turned her head away, before this kid went on and on in that annoyingly saccharine-to-the-point-of-diabetes voice of hers and looked over to the armored pegasus. She walked up to her and tapped a talon on the helmet. "Hey, anyone in there? You know what we're doing out here? Cause it looks to me, no one seems to have a friggin clue why we're all clustered in front of some old building that we can't get in." She paused before continuing, and pointed a talon at both the armored pony and the annoying pony. "Acutally, you guys can't get in there." Turning around, she took off, soaring through the air and banking around to the side of the house. No bars on the windows, perfect. She crashed through the glass with her paws, managing not to get shredded in the process, and trekked the dark hallway, disappearing further into the house.

The sword-carrying mare buried her face in a hoof, as it was the only way to effectively express her exasperation over the situation. She dipped into her saddlebag and spit up another few bits toward the grinning cashier who seemed to be raking in amusement along with profit before disappearing off to let another waiter know to bring the poor rainbow pony another cuppa joe. She pushed a hoof inbetween the two to separate Neame and Dash and spoke up with authority. "Yes. We want to find Celestia's student for reasons I'm not entirely sure about, now can you help us?" she said to Rainbow Dash. Not expecting her to understand, she continued, "Neame here is a famous artist, and among her works are a set of paintings from a different time. A different place. She's been having dreams about such, and those usually seem to manifest themselves in her art, I gather. So we decided to tag along with her to find somepony who could help. We believe that pony is in this very town. Mind you, she'd need to excel in magic, and maybe a good history head on her shoulders would help too."

Deliberating on a cutie mark story. It wasn't part of the plans at first, so I need to work on that soon enough. This application should be finished within the week.

T'would be a great help. If anything, I'd like it to be something like a spellbook or something. I know at some point in time, I'd like him to be able to cast spells through incantations and such. His talent? Erm...as far as I know, it seems to be based around teaching magic, or understanding it or something.

*slaps all the ponies*

Flap-flapping her wings and hovering over the scene, Miasma couldn't help facetaloning again as she watched the antics of the silly filly in front of the door. Ramming all three pounds of what the gryphon was now sure was confetti against the lock with absolutely no degree of success. It was quite annoying, actually, watching the pony continuing the unhelpful monotony of her actions. And then, a creaking, clanking, clinking something landed next to her, and she began talking. Oh Celestia, one of those knight ponies. Infinite dedication to the crown and stupidly lawful. The scene proceeded to annoy her more when the pony began rubbing up against the armor as if it were some sort of fuzzy...something. It was beginning to make her brain hurt. Her ideas hurt, even. Too much saccharine crap going on down there. The gryphon jet down to the doorsteps and cleared her throat audibly. "Hi--names Miasma--is there any reason you two are trying to break into this house here? I have a gryphon sense that tingles when ponies are doing stupid things, and this looks like one of 'em." snarked Miasma, walking up the steps and flicking her tail in admonishment.

The hug did not go ignored, and Cutlass reciprocated in kind. There were times where one could feel overwhelmed by the pressures and responsibility that came with achieving one's own goals. A little companionship was exactly what Neame needed in order to take this journey on. And Cutlass would help her see it through to the end, as well as help keep her and Muffin Top alive if it ever came down to it. "You'll get back to your nest soon enough, but until then, we've got a job to do." said Cutlass, smiling back at her before turning to look back at Daring Do-- "Oh, uh, yeah, um, no problem, then. Yeah, I'm Rainbow Dash," "What?" said Cutlass, taken aback. "Course you have, I'm Rainbow Dash! Fastest Pegasus alive! Only Pegasus ever to perform a Sonic Rainboom! No adventure too grand for me!" Cutlass pouted. She couldn't help it. Daring Do was the kind of mare she imagined herself moving like in combat. Nimble, graceful and swift. And now she had the be Rainbow Dash instead of Daring Do. Her disappointment was hidden behind a small grin as Neame mentioned that Dash would have knowledge of Celestia's charge. "I'd hope so, Neame." she said to the gryphon before turning to the rainbow maned mare. "A pleasure to meet you, Rainbow Dash. The name's Cutlass." She turned to catch one of the mares who stood behind the counter on her way back to it, "One coffee for Rainbow Dash please. Cream and sugar, normal servings, thank you." she dug into her saddlebags with her muzzle and spit out about ten bits that flew through the air and pitter-pattered onto the counter from where she stood. "I know that's more than the price. Keep the rest." Back to Dash. "Ma'am, my companions and I are searching for a student of the Princess? Princess Celestia that is. D'you know where we can find her?"