Dio

Sweet. This means I have the weekend at least to draft up a fic idea and start writing!

Finalized. Added cutie mark story, character history, a few quirks, and cleaned up some formatting. Roll that beautiful bean footage!

"Hey are you coming or-- WHOA!" Dio scarcely had time to look over his shoulder as a a black and blue bolt went screaming past him, spinning him about on one wing. As he righted himself, Dio blinked incredulously. In spite of her previous injury, Star Chaser still retained both her need for speed and her competitive spirit! "I'll race ya!" She called as she blew past. Dio flapped harder, starting slowly, but steadily picking up speed as he went. Years of practice made saddlebags and crosswinds seem like nothing to his heavy frame and muscled build. There was no outmaneuvering Star Chaser, but if she wanted a straightline race, he could certainly give her a run for her bits! But they were still supposed to picnic in the foothills that afternoon. They'd be late... and wasn't he supposed to be in the lead? Dio shook out his mane, clearing his head from doubt. Star's enthusiasm could only be answered by one thing... competition. Dio grinned as he powered onward. He wasn't about to let his date put him down! "You're on!"

May the God-Empress have mercy upon your souls.

Virtue’s ear involuntarily twitched at Cherry’s question. Yes, it did look bad, did it not? Here they were, two perfect strangers waking up in an old inn with nary an introduction and only hazy memories of the previous night’s events. Virtue closed his eyes for a moment to recollect his thoughts. “I suppose I would do well to start at the beginning,” he said before sliding two bowls of oatmeal down the counter to the seating area. Pony kitchens were designed for convenience, with one-piece counters running from a preparation area to an eating area. Quick meals were usually taken standing, though a lower-set table appropriate for kneeling and sitting was present in this particular kitchenette. “My name is Virtue,” he said, noting Cherry’s occasional glances towards Aequitas. “I believe you already have some idea of my profession.” The stallion paused for a moment in consideration before deliberately moving the bowls to the dining table. The young mare before him had a look of quiet perplexity in her eyes. That wasn’t to say she was confused or concussed. The glazed look of injury and the dumbstruck slackness of face were conspicuously absent. Instead, she seemed possessed by a genuine benign curiosity. “Please, sit,” Virtue said, motioning with a hoof to a spot opposite him at the table. “I apologize for the meagerness of the meal. I tend to travel light and as a result, my tastes are quite simple.” “I do not have to reiterate that last night was a complex situation,” he continued. “Suffice to say that I disrupted what I had assumed to be a mugging but turned out to be something much deeper than petty theft.” “I was concerned for your safety after the attack. The chatter of the two thugs made it clear that this was premeditated. There was a determined group of attackers acting under the orders of a master.” Virtue quietly took a bite of his oats, slowly chewing them over as he considered his next words. “I did not trust anypony else with your safety and triage suggested that your wounds were merely superficial, so I brought you here to recover instead.” “I apologize if this seems frightening or foreign to you. I will admit that the circumstances seem a little strange,” he said locking eyes with Cherry. “But I swear on the Librum that I acted only with your best interest in heart.” “But now that you have my name and my version of the story, I believe it would be simple etiquette to reciprocate, miss…?” Virtue, waited, hoping that his charge would be willing to fill in the blank.

Please leave tag enforcement to the staff. As stated in the Application Form instructions, we are moving away from the title tags and using the topic tags system. If you'll observe carefully, there is a string of tags under the topic title in this thread which contains all the relevant information. The "milking thing" is to firmly establish that he does not merely kill the monster to harvest its organs which is a bit much for board RP. Please be considerate and insightful in your comments. We want to help everypony improve their character for the appropriate RP section that they are applying for and this requires well thought out remarks that contribute to the discussion. Now on to remarks. There's some concern that the Monster Hunter profession is redundant with the Royal Equestrian Army and the Holy Order of the Destriers, however, the profession is acceptable because some ponies would likely prefer to work with a private specialist than a government generalist. I see him fitting in as a monster expert and consultant in the world for both civilian and government applications. You've obviously put a lot of work into his profession and I think you have a firm grasp of what he's capable of. However, in spite of the attention to detail on his occupation, there seems to be very little on Shadow himself. I'd like to see more about his psychology and personality. There are some very general terms included in the final paragraph that sort of broach the surface, but never go in depth about him. How does he react in crisis situations? How about normal social situations? Does he deal with other ponies well? Does he treat others as equals or is he truly proud of his excellence in his field? Does he have any long-term goals not related to his profession? Virtues, vices, desires, and personal demons all define a character and in a social RP such as Canterlot.com's, are very important. I'm also curious as to his living situation. Does he still travel with his parents? If not, what prompted him to leave? Does he work mostly alone or does he prefer working and living with a team of monster hunters? These questions are there to help you craft your character into a unique person that will be able to interact well in the RP environment and has a distinct place in the world. You can look through the Accepted Apps section and take a look at the most recent characters for examples of what we're looking for. If you have any further questions, do not hesitate to contact the staff. We have experienced RPers and eager helpful ponies here who can give you pointers to put you on track. - Dio

I'm slowly making changes to it. Follow along... if you dare.

This is a great outline to start with. As Dessa said, however, we could definitely use more exposition on his personality, a glimpse inside his head if you will. It's important to be able to flesh out a character's motivations and desires, virtues and vices, before you can properly interact with other ponies in RP. What is he afraid of? What makes him giddy with excitement? How does he see other ponies? A more nitpicky tweak I would also suggest would be on the subject of the tool shed. Metal does not automatically attract lightning strikes; it will only do this if it is in the right shape and the right location, such as in an elevated position. He could have been simply concerned over whether or not doors were locked. Rain can cause exposed metal tools to rust and wooden tools to warp, neither of which are good for a handypony. Also, his name does not seem very pony-like. I remember our IRC conversation and I do recall your explanation of the chisel and hammer. However, as mentioned in the character creation guide, ponies do not use the First-name Last-name structure like humans or other species like Griffons. Also, while Lucerne is certainly a type of hammer, it is a medieval weapon and from what I'm gathering of your character, you do not want him to be combative in any way. Thus a more benign implement might be more appropriate. Finally, please use the topic tag system to identify your OC as detailed in the first part of the OC application form. This will make it easier for us to identify and handle your character application in the long run. Thanks.

There's one more observation I'd like to make. What is assumed to be the "Common Tongue" is spoken throughout Equestria and Aquellia. It is assumed for RP purposes that anyone from Stalliongrad will be able to understand everyone else from other places in Equestria perfectly. I like to RP the native dialect "Stallian" as merely an accent rather than an entirely different language. I'm going to go ahead and approve this otherwise.

I like this one. He's a very down to earth pony with a concrete job, great work ethic, and his own set of challenges to face. My only objection is the name, which really doesn't seem very pony-like. Just because Stalliongrad has a strong Slavic flavor to it doesn't mean pony names are not used. For example, Phil's character Snowfall is Stalliongrad born and raised but still has a distinctively "pony" name. I kicked around a few ideas in my head and one that stuck out to me was Tundra. It's related to the northern territories and it implies toughness, hardiness, perseverance, which I think are all themes that Shot Glass could relate to. One of the other staffers went ahead and suggested Orange Tundra, which has a double-meaning: it is a vodka drink, but also could represent the colors of the sparks thrown when working metal in a factory. Give it some thought, and let us know what you come up with!

After some thought, I've decided to submit this character for a rewrite, so he's going back into the WIP stack for now.

The Royal Gardens played host to flora and fauna from across the land ranging from the exotic to the mundane. Endless swaths of greenery sprawled across the contoured courtyards, punctuated by alabaster obelisks and shielded by walls of ancient stone. Birdsong wafted through the air, perfumed by the sweet scent of lavender and buoyed by the throaty drone of the rapids and waterfalls that fed the garden’s spectacular collection of flora. “Good morning to you, as well!” Celestia chirped. The buzzard perched on a nearby branch squawked acknowledgement before resuming its buzzing. Celestia slowly worked her way through the garden, pausing here and there to softly hum along with the birds or smile contentedly as they twittered and chirped, flitting around her in a merry dance of feathers and song. The Sun Princess closed her eyes and smiled contentedly as a brightly colored finch alighted in her mane, tucking a single orchid flower behind her ear. Suddenly, the tranquil surround of the garden was broken by the fluttering of large wings. The finch let out a surprised squawk before beating a hasty retreat to the safety of a nearby tree. Celestia winced at the sudden change in volume, but quickly realized what had happened, tempering her surprise with a light chuckle and a shake of her head. “Oh Philomena, you really must stop terrorizing the gardens!” She said, extending her gilded hoof as a perch. A shimmering banner of blazing crimson and glittering aurum fluttered across Celestia’s vision before rapidly circling around and alighting upon her outstretched hoof. Philomena, now replete with regenerated plumage crowed in delight. If a creature with a beak could smile, she would most certainly have been doing so. As she did, the small satchel that she had been carrying dropped into the grass with a dull thud. Celestia gently nuzzled her companion. “I really was about to return to my chambers to fetch it for myself. But since the weather crews haven’t scheduled rain until tomorrow, I suppose it’s just as well. I could always use more time outside!” The phoenix crowed again, fluttering to perch on Celestia’s back as the princess moved. Celestia levitated the satchel beside her, trotting to a secluded spot on the terrace where she could write in peace. Humming softly to herself and her companion, she unsnapped the buckle, removed her quill and stationery, and began to write.

“We’ve no time to waste, Doctor.” As she spoke, Celestia’s entire countenance changed, suddenly adopting a stolid grimness that wasn’t there before. The horde of skittering, spider-like creatures poured out over the stone, undaunted, innumerable, and seemingly implacable. The sound of millions of tiny legs scraping stone filled the corridor with a horrible din akin to feedback static. Even Celestia was having trouble maintaining her concentration enough to cast. There was something deeply unsettling about the skittering arthropods, but it was not the fact that they were creepy, crawling, critters. Celestia had an appreciation for all creatures great and small in the world over which she kept careful stewardship. But with this stewardship and eons of experience came a distinct affinity for the subtleties of the aether. Something within these creatures clawed at her incorporeal senses, testing her magical defenses. They were close now, too close. “We’re out of time, Doctor. Guards, escort Princess Luna back to the castle. I will deal with this.” The Sun Princess firmly planted her gilded hooves upon the cold stone, bracing them for the spell she was preparing to cast. The faint lavender glow about her horn suddenly peaked in intensity, becoming nearly unbearable to look at. Celestia’s eyes smoldered the same shade of lavender, obscuring her pupils to the outside observer, but only serving to enhance her own vision as she partially immersed herself in the aether. To the princess, the corridor walls seemed to fade away, becoming semitransparent and indistinct. All around her, waves of faint violet flowed, glittering, shimmering, and scintillating like a million diamonds. But something was wrong. Just in front of her, where those creatures were, there were no waves, no crests, no shimmers. There was no aether. There was only void; cold, dark, magickless void. Surprising, to be certain. But Celestia had little time to consider the ramifications. A flick of her horn and the warp and the weft of the immaterium wove itself together at the Sun Princess’ whim. A glowing wall of shimmering arcane force stitched itself together in front of the advancing horde, cutting off the corridor and isolating the creatures from the retreating ponies, at least for the moment. The creatures’ impacts on the force field set blue ripples shooting across the surface, striking the stone walls, dislodging loose bits of dirt, and throwing brightly colored sparks from where the field met stone. The creatures clawed and scrabbled, mindlessly slamming into the force field over and over again. There it was again, that feeling of void, like a whirlpool that was slowly sucking down all the ambient aether; the chilling feeling of nothingness given substance. Even now, Celestia could feel the force field spell weakening, as if the very presence of the creatures was anathema to anything that involved magic. “Doctor, the spell will not hold them for long!” Celestia said tersely, the glow finally subsiding from her horn and eyes. “We must return to the surface at once. When we do, I believe an explanation is in order...”

Who called it on Celestia's letters? THIS GUY. Also neurotic Twilight is simultaneously adorable and the scariest thing I've seen in a while.

Tapatalk derped. Disregard this post. That said, love this character. I'm glad that people are starting to populate Stalliongrad and can't wait to see where it goes!

Virtue grunted as he carried Cherry’s limp form up the stairs, struggling not with her weight, but the awkwardness of balancing another pony between his wings and his combat harness on an incline. The knight silently cursed as he nearly stumbled, finally reaching the top of the stairs, a few feathers out of place, but otherwise none the worse for wear. It would have been comical had the situation been one of drunken mirth and not drug-addled repose. The Destrier hoofed the door open, grimacing at the sudden wash of hot, muggy air from the interior of the inn room. A couch. A kitchenette. A coffee table. A bed tucked into what amounted to a large walk-in closet. The inn had probably been an apartment at some point, a small one bedroom rented to students at the local university or professionals looking for a cheap place to stay in the city. However long it had been there, the owner still had not managed to solve the ventilation problem. Virtue grunted in exertion, wiping the sweat from his brow with a fetlock before gingerly stepping into the bedroom. Gently, as if handling a basket of dried flowers, Virtue rolled Cherry off his back, using wings and muzzle to nudge her into recovery position on her side. The room was still blisteringly hot; a blanket would be highly inappropriate. Out of the corner of his eye, Virtue caught the glint of light on a reflective surface on the ceiling. A sigh of exasperation was all that escaped Virtue’s lips when he finally saw the skylight. There was ventilation after all, he was just too blind to see it. Fluttering up to ceiling level, the Pegasus opened up the window and peeked through, his mane billowing out at the sudden rush of outside air. It was noticeably cooler now, the mugginess of post-storm humidity steadily blowing away with the clearing sky. Stars twinkled above and a waxing moon framed itself in the skylight, casting a pillar of milky luminescence into the bedroom. The knight floated down from the ceiling and made his rounds, opening all of the windows in the former apartment and breathing a sigh of relief as the humid miasma cleared itself in short order. Now a blanket would be appropriate. Virtue gripped the rumpled sheets with his teeth, gently settling them over Cherry’s sleeping form. Now he was done. Finally beginning to feel the weight of his wounds and combat fatigue, Virtue unrolled his sleeping bag on the couch and unceremoniously flopped onto the improvised bedding. One breath and one flutter of heavy eyelids was all it took for the Pegasus to drift off into dreamless sleep. ------------------------------------ Daily life started early in Equestria. Even before the sun had risen, ponies were already milling about in the streets, shopping, chatting, and going about their daily routines. Outside, both foot and cart traffic could be heard, newscolts hocking their papers, street vendors peddling fresh fruit and fast food; everyone had places to be and ponies to see. In spite of the late night shenanigans, Virtue’s biological clock was still right on schedule. Just as dawn broke over the Equestrian plains, the Destrier stirred, rolling off the couch on to all fours. The knight took the time to clean both himself and his room, going about his morning routine with nary a word. Virtue’s idea of breakfast was very mechanically executed. Oatmeal, plain and simple, with perhaps a bit of brown sugar from his saddlebags to ease it down. Years of training had given Virtue a very simple outlook on life. As a Brother-Cavalier and later Brother-Captain, he had little use for finery or trinkets. His life was dedicated to the service of Equestria… or so it had been. Virtue was never one to brood, but his journey had given him ample time for introspection. His thoughts perambulated about his mind like the wooden cooking spoon did about the pan; stirring, churning the mental slurry like so many loose flakes of now soppy oats, but never achieving any sort of definition. Was the Council right? Were his actions out of line? Or perhaps the Council had lost sight of what was truly important. Virtue slowly scooped piping hot oats into a dull and cracked, but otherwise clean, bowl that he’d found in the kitchenette cupboard. The Librum was merely a set of guidelines, a framework upon which to build a greater Equestria. But the Council… the Council had turned it into a cage; a tomb in which to bury centuries of proud tradition and future generations of greater Equestrians under the weight of immobilism and conservative dogmatism. Virtue snorted in contempt at the thought. Inside, the rage of betrayal still burned cold. The very ponies to whom he had devoted his life had done away with him, tossed him aside like a broken training sword. Equestria was changing. The forces which acted upon it were far greater than even the Council and all of their Destrier chapters. Virtue had foreseen change and in it had secured his own dishonor. The faint clip-clop of hooves on hardwood flooring snapped Virtue out of his own thoughts. A polite cough, more to gain his attention than clear a throat, followed, prompting Virtue to turn around. Standing before him was the mulberry filly from the previous night, mane rumpled, flight feathers in disarray, and superficial cuts crusted in scabs, but otherwise healthy and alert. “Good morning,” Virtue said, attempting to keep the edge out of his voice from his prior musings. “You are just in time for breakfast…”

Hi, and welcome to Canterlot! We pride ourselves on being one of the friendliest brony communities around and a laid-back, fun place to RP and chat about the show. You only need 3 posts in the intro section, not 3 topics, so replying in this thread is sufficient to unlock the rest of the boards for you So now that we've made our pitch, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself? After all, this is a community and we love to interact and get to know our members! Do you RP at all? How did you come to the fandom?