Dio

I'm less concerned over the environmental effects than the potentially massive power savings that you could get out of a setup like that. The only problem I see is that solar panels are expensive hardware and I'm not sure how resistant they would be to harsh weather.

Got to electrical engineering lab one day. We were building comparators, which required the use of electrolytic capacitors as components. The caps that we were issued were rated at 5 volts. Our power supply units delivered up to 25 volts of potential. Someone powered on their circuit with their PSU dialed up to max voltage. Hilarity ensued. We all jumped because the capacitor exploded in a puff of smoke. The explosion sounded EXACTLY like a gunshot at point blank range and left a horrible, horrible burning smell. Moral of the story? Overvoltage is bad; very bad.

(( I'll do my best not to drag the conversation out unnecessarily. )) 'How—How do you know my name?' the peryton rasped, recoiling visibly at his touch. The response both verbal and physical was fearful, even a little hostile. It was enough to give Rook pause. He didn't know her name; or even if perytons gave themselves names. Their culture was poorly documented at best and very ill-understood at worst. With no real anthropological basis for communication, he'd have to take it much slower. Since his only spoken dialogue with her had mentioned the descriptor 'snowy,' he concluded that it must be her name. 'Call it a lucky guess,' Rook chuckled. 'It's a mnemonic trick I use. I give ponies—or perytons in this case—nicknames based on traits I see so I can better remember them if I see them again. I'm assuming by your reaction that I happened upon your actual name.' Rook paused again. He was rambling. This wouldn't do at all. 'Let me start over. I am Argent Rook, a doctor working here at the Hoofington Clinic. Please don't be alarmed by all this equipment and the strange appointments of this room. It's standard issue for most medical facilities in Equestria,' he said, motioning with a hoof to Snow's IV line, the curtains, and the infirmary bed in sequence. 'So long as you are here, you are safe. It is the staff's responsibility to ensure that.' 'So that brings us back to my original question. How are you feeling, Snowy?'

Argent Rook wasn't going to complain. Work was work and having bits to put food on the table and pay for rent, however temporary, was plenty good for him. The clinic in Hoofington was nothing compared to the general hospital in Talonopolis or even Brandis Razorclaw's personal infirmary, but it held the simple rustic charm that most pony settlements were known for. As comparatively primitive as the clinic was, they had accepted him with open hooves. Trauma specialists like him were apparently difficult to come by in the Pony-occupied areas in Equestria. Rook set his mug of tea back down on the coffee table and laid his head down on his front hooves. Aetheric medicine was exhausting work. After the last patient he probably could have fallen asleep on the break room couch for a few hours. It had been a long time since he had treated anyone with such substantial injuries and an even longer time since he had treated a peryton, if ever. Of course, the nature of her injuries was most troubling. Far from an accident or a beast attack, the wounds looked intentional, deliberate. When the nurse first showed him the young deer-like creature, Rook had thought he'd be performing an autopsy rather than triage. The peryton had been lucky. If she hadn't been brought in when she had, the infection probably would have done her in. 'Doctor?' Rook turned his head to meet the voice of the purple unicorn nurse. 'The patient is awake.' Rook nodded and rose from the couch, taking one last sip of his tea before floating the mug over to the sink and walking out the door. As he neared the bed, he could see the peryton tossing and turning before finally settling down. 'You've got a funny definition for awake, nurse,' Rook said flatly as he trotted over to the peryton's bedside. 'But it will do. Go ahead and make your rounds. I'll need to speak with her alone.' The purple unicorn mare nodded and quietly left, drawing the curtain behind her. Rook sighed as he looked at the snow white peryton on the bed, her body marred with myriad scars and coat in complete disarray. Someone had done this to her deliberately. The scars would be more than merely physical. It was going to be a long road to recovery. He tapped her gently on the shoulder. 'Rise and shine, snowy," he said, unwittingly referencing her real name. "How are we feeling?'

What kind of help will you be looking for? Manual labor? Skilled carpenters? Architects? Musicians? Let us know what you need and we'll send help your way!

I prefer my apples unbucked fine thank you. But thanks for the interest

*Kicks Blind Jester in the shins* I don't need to text wall for this do I? Guess not.

Any friend of RC's is a friend of mine. Expect to be equally abused I kid, I kid. Welcome to the boards. I think the other staffers have explained all of the housekeeping stuff already, so I'll spare you a rehash. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. There's always at least one of us around on the boards or IRC!

This thread lags up tapatalk @_@ I hope you're happy.

Hey welcome to the Canterlot boards! We've got a little something for every brony from general chit chat to live IRC chat to roleplay. Make sure you check out the Getting Started section to get all the information you'll need to contribute and interact with the rest of the community. If you have more specific questions, don't hesitate to contact me or the any of the other staffers via PM or IRC. We've got staff bronies spread out all over the globe, so you'll almost always be able to get a hold of at least one of us if you need us. I used to be a big DoD:S player, but then Battlefield and Black Ops started sucking away my time and attention. Despite the fact that it doesn't quite hold up to modern shooters in terms of individual shooting mechanics, the one thing I appreciated about DoD was the fact that you actually had to work together as a team in order to succeed. Do you play any other shooters?

Diomedes ruffled his wings in anticipation as Martini gingerly—almost reverently— placed before him a glass of Saddleton. The red Pegasus nodded in acknowledgement. Carefully cupping the glass with his hooves, Dio brought it to his lips. The liquid was cool to the throat, going down smooth as if it were iced water instead of one of the strongest liquors distilled this side of Roughrider. Barely a moment later came the burn of alcohol, or in this case, the gradual warming sensation of a fine liquor—like you were soaking in a warm bath on the inside. Finally, there was the flavor. The key to Saddleton was its subtlety. It never hit you in the face, it sidled up to you and draped a wing over your shoulders while you weren't looking. Notes of vanilla and pecan drifted between Dio's taste buds, gradually fading to a finish that tasted faintly of oranges. Dio smiled. Martini wasn't kidding when she said it was the good stuff. 'So, are you having a good time at the Gala? Meet anypony interesting?' She said. 'If by interesting, you mean stuck-up suits with chips on their shoulders and hot air in their heads, then plenty!' Dio laughed, the fine flavor lifting his spirits. 'I suppose this is what I get for being an Army brat. Dad gets comp tickets to stuff all the time and I'm obligated to come along.' Dio made eye contact with Martini Paradise and for just a moment, perceived something else behind the gentle smile and the aether-borne bar rag. Was it… a distant sadness perhaps? Dio couldn't place it. But just like that, it was gone, leaving him wondering if he'd seen or intuited anything at all. Dio raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It probably wasn't important. His attention momentarily redirected, Dio barely noticed the jet black lady Pegasus slip into the barstool next to him. 'Hi I'll take uhh... ya know what, whatever you feel like making as long as it's not straight alcohol.' As Dio sipped his drink, completely oblivious to her identity until he heard the mare speak. The red Pegasus' eyes went wide and he nearly spit out his drink in surprise. Star Chaser, here? His eyes darted back and forth between Martini Paradise and Star Chaser as he downed his drink in record time. The gradually warming of a small sip was replaced by the full-on burn of a shot of whiskey. Dio's throat felt like it was on fire and the subtle hint of citrus turned into a sour note that made his eyes water. If it were possible, Dio's mane would be ablaze and he would have had steam shooting out of his ears. He certainly felt like that was what was happening! 'Sooo... sorry about before, didn't think that would bother you like it did…' Dio took a moment to steady himself and collect his thoughts. She actually came to the bar after him. Okay… maybe she was actually interested. Maybe Aristotle wasn't just playing him for kicks. But what could he do now? He didn't anticipate having a Wonderbolt interested in him! Dio unconsciously tugged at his bowtie and ruffled his wings. He was going to need another drink. But first, the lady. He wasn't about to leave her hanging. 'It's not you, it's me.' Dio bit his lip. That was a horrible opener! 'Or rather, dear old dad. I should be used to his antics by now, being an army brat and all, but I guess I just haven't caught on!' Dio chuckled at the joke, even if it was at his own expense. 'But really, I apologize for being a little flustered at the table. Formal occasions take me out of my element. This,' he said, waving a hoof at the general area of the bar, 'is more my style. I always preferred a more intimate setting for any meeting between friends.' Finally hitting his stride, Dio rapped gently on the bar. 'The Saddleton was brilliant! And as much as my bit pouch is hurting, it was worth every last one. I'll have another drink, but make it a Talonopolis Bourbon on the rocks. Fancy is good, but so is familiar.' 'But for the lady, something fruity perhaps?' He said as he winked at Star Chaser, reversing his previous gaffe at the autograph table. 'I've got just the drink. Three measures of Caballo's gin, one of Stallionoya vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel.' Dio had picked up the recipe on a trip to Canterlot a while back. If made poorly, the drink was a mess of liquor, but if made properly, it was smooth as lemon water with the impact of a sledgehammer later. A Wonderbolt was interested and he didn't intend to disappoint...

Welcome, welcome! We've got bronies of all shapes and sizes and all walks of life. RPers and artists, writers and readers, we've got it all! Please take some time to read through the Getting Started section to get a feel for our rules and environment. It will take five posts before the general section of the boards will unlock for you, but you should be able to get that in no time If you need any help, don't hesitate to contact the staff. We're the ones with our names highlighted in pretty colors. We'll get you pointed in the right direction for whatever you need!

I see a lot of history, but not too much in the way of personal quirks or personality description. Perhaps some elaboration on her worldview is in order. For example, how does she react to civilization? How does she feel about its interaction with the natural world? Does she associate the griffon slavers with civilized society? Or does she view them as savages bent on the destruction of all worlds? How does she view the other races in Equestria? Is she friendly towards all creatures or is she wary of any that is not of her kind? Also, you mentioned that she plans to travel to the griffon lands in search of her sister. Does she plan on recruiting pony adventurers to assist her? Or is this an entirely Peryton matter? Finally, is she impulsive? Skittish? Bolts at the first sign of danger? Or is she more adept at thinking on her feet? These personality traits and views of the world around her will determine how she interacts with other characters. Answering those questions will help you figure out how to play her and aid others in interacting with you in the game world.

'Namffs Diomedes, buff fou can call me Dio,' He said through the gauze in his teeth. The Red Pegasus dropped the wadding as he removed the last of the needles from his flight feathers. He nodded at each of his new acquaintances. 'I would have preferred less dangerous circumstances, but it's good to know who I'm working with.' A hissing sound began emanating from the floor of the cart and Diomedes recoiled at what he saw. His improvised pincushion had shriveled up and crumbled to dust. The gauze wasn't even alive, I'd hate to think of what it could have done had I left those needles in any longer. Dio shuddered at the sudden thought of losing his wings. They were his pride and livelihood! It was game over if… no. Dio pushed the thought from his head. He'd beaten the odds again and there was no reason to dwell on unrealized realities. 'I guess it would be redundant to say that I really don't want to be here right now, wherever 'here' is. I was flying from Bareback Gulch to Ponyville and the next thing I know I'm lying on the ground with a splitting headache looking like I'd just gotten into a fight with a manticore,' he said, gesturing towards his superficial scratches and mussed up mane and tail. 'My boss is going to throw a fit when he finds out one of his mail carriers went AWOL.' As Braeburn mentioned Appleloosa, Dio's ears perked up. 'Appleloosa? If that's the closest town, I must have been blown farther off course than I'd thought!' The mail pony gathered up his first aid kit and started treating the cuts and scratches on himself. As he went about his business, he listened carefully to the stories of the other ponies, trying his best to wrap his brain around the situation. A doomed train, a ghost-hunting expedition, Spirit Lanterns… it sounded like a high adventure story was unfolding right before his eyes and he was caught in the middle of it. As the conversation moved back and forth, Dio's ear twitched at the direction it was headed. Braeburn wanted to single-hoofedly save Appleloosa from those Spirit Lantern things? Willow Wisp wanted to go with him to study the Spirit Lanterns? Bluebelle and the Doctor weren't willing to leave them behind? Dio snorted incredulously. 'You want my honest opinion? You all are crazy. Braeburn, if you think you can take on those things without magic after seen what they can do, you're crazy. Willow, if you think you can charm them with diplomacy, you're crazy. Bluebelle, if you think it's safe to go in after them without some serious firepower, you're crazy. And you, the Doctor; you're the craziest out of all of us. I don't even know what you're planning on doing with those spirit lanterns.' Diomedes was wasn't exactly in the best of moods. Maybe it was his poor first impression of both the Doctor and Braeburn. Maybe it was the weight of his fatigue speaking. Maybe it was the fact that he could possibly be fired for going AWOL. Maybe it was because there was a distinct possibility that they could all be killed out here by rampaging cacti on fire. But as the thoughts swirled around in the big Pegasus' head, he made his decision. 'But you know what? I can't leave you guys behind. If I were to take off tomorrow morning by myself, your blood would be on my hooves. I can't have that. I'm going with you. To hell with getting to work on time. Someone needs to keep you ponies alive.'

'Ah, Mystery, what a lovely name! Also, your hair is fine,' White Feather said, responding to Mystery Chaser's subconscious grab for her head. He slipped away for a moment, grabbing some cloth napkins from a neighboring table and dropping them on the table in front of Mystery Chaser. 'Here, these might prove useful.' 'Name's Quill,' the blue pony said with a grin. 'Pleasure to meet you, Mystery, and by extension Robikku and… I'm sorry miss I didn't quite catch your name. My, it looks like you may need these just as much as Mystery!' 'Quill' picked up a folded napkin and flicked it across the way, dropping it perfectly at Jambalaya's spot at the table, even as he sat down. White Feather eyed the plate of treats that Robikku had brought back from the buffet. 'Oh Robikku, you even brought back curry tarts! They're my favorite!' The blue pony paused for a moment, putting a hoof to his chin. It was probably best not to ramble all night, even though he could very easily have done so. His company would probably grow tired of him! 'So,' he finished. 'How is everypony doing tonight?'

Dio [Pony Express] Make 5 consecutive package deliveries on time. [Cold as ice] Winter weather advisory. Rook [Only a flesh wound] Successfully resuscitate an injured pony. [i'm a doctor, not a...] Get caught in a situation where your medical expertise is useless. Sturmovik/Crew of the Artorius [bratya po'oruzhiyu!] Carouse with the crew of the Artorius. [Farewell to Slavyanka] Catch Sturmovik stargazing on deck... and live to tell about it. White Feather [i'm a Gopher] Retrieve the package. [Wind Walker] Extract the package. Aristotle [Over the hill] Begin a story with "back in the day..." [You ain't seen what I've seen] Scare someone with an embellished war story.

Dusty means four-hooves. I know I've still got all mine ^_^ You'll want to check out the Getting Started section as soon as you can. It has everything you'll need to know about forum rules, RP policy, and even guides on character creation. Meanwhile, feel free to hop onto IRC and hang out with the rest of the bronies. If you need help with anything don't hesitate to pester Painted about it All the helpstaff is here if you need us, just give us a ping on IRC or the boards. Good luck in future RP apps and welcome!

Music: Paramore. I can't help it if I think Hayley is cute... TV: The Cape. Still ticked that they cancelled it. Oh was it cheesy, but I know I'd want to be a masked superhero given the chance. Movie: Speed Racer (Wachowski Brothers). Emile Hirsch is a horrible actor, but that movie is just so darn COOL.

'I… what?' Diomedes blinked. It was unmistakable; the trace of island charm, the freakish knowledge of all things drink, the incorrigible initiative. His ear twitched as he looked up to investigate the familiar voice. Speak of the devil. It was her all right. Of all the gin joints in all the towns, in all Equestria, you had to work at mine… Dio definitely remembered his first brush with the unicorn mare. Martini was a walking, talking conundrum; she was young, pretty, skilled, witty, worldly… and a mother. Really, whoever the father was, he must have been a moron to leave her behind. But really, Martini's past was the least of his concerns right now. The girl had asked him a question. 'You tempt me, Martini,' he said, mustering enough of a smile to greet his old acquaintance. Saddleton 12-year was expensive; at his current pay grade, it would take him more than two weeks just to save up enough money for a single bottle. At bar rates, he'd probably end up paying through the nose for even a single shot. Dio bit his lower lip. A drink was what he needed and a drink was what he was going to get, one way or another. 'And I'll have to bite. Nix the double and the rocks. Single straight. This night's just getting started.'

Don't worry about not being bitten by the RP bug, you'll be joining us soon enough But in all seriousness, there's also brony chatter and off-topic sections for your non-RP needs and you're always welcome to hang out on IRC. Again, welcome!

I'll point my brother to them. He's learning flash and is also in the process of learning the FiM rendering style and this might be of interest to him. ... and I guess applying as a VA or writer couldn't hurt.

Diomedes did his best to keep his head up as he approached the bar. It would fine. He'd gotten away from both an embarrassing social gaffe and his dad's self-important smirk. It wasn't that he hated Aristotle, he just didn't like being played. If Dio was going to do anything, it would be on his own terms. If he could handle the unicorn bartender at the Rhinestone and that ice queen of a weather captain, he certainly could handle the white-maned lady Wonderbolt. But still, a dose of liquid courage couldn't hurt either... Finally arriving at the bar, he chose a seat at the far end, away from the brouhaha of the Canterlot regulars where he'd be able to nurse his drink by himself. Reaching back into his jacket pocket, Dio pulled out his autographed gala ticket, letting it flutter to the table top without a word. He furrowed his brow as the ticket landed face-up, his eyes coming to rest on the little heart that Star Chaser had drawn as she signed her name. 'Bartender,' he said absentmindedly. 'Get me a double Talonopolis bourbon on the rocks.'

Happy birthday, Scotchie!

As he neared the buffet, White Feather's ears perked up and his nose began to twitch. Everything just smelled so good. If there was one thing that Canterlot ponies knew how to do right, it was cook! Oooh, are those curry tarts? I absolutely have to get some! 'After work, that is,' he muttered to himself. Work was work, and White Feather wasn't getting paid to stuff his face at the buffet. After the minor spats in the garden and the ballroom, White Feather had been careful not to attract too much attention to himself. This job wasn't something he did regularly. He was an infiltrator, not a spy. Even though his propensity for fast-talking and improvisation had saved him in both previous instances, White Feather was out of his element. The interior of the palace was too bright to really facilitate hiding and skulking and the crowd was too unpredictable to rely on as cover. It was only a matter of time before somepony recognized him and alerted the guards. Out of the corner of his eye, White Feather found his target. A black, canvas attaché peeked out from just beneath a white-clothed table, out of the way of the main buffet and beyond the prying eyes of most of the inattentive crowd. Perfect. There was only one problem... the table was occupied. White Feather furrowed his brow as he thought about how to approach the problem. He could attempt a simple smash and grab, but that might attract too much attention. Perhaps a bit of charm? White Feather frowned. This was getting old. Perhaps… His decision was made for him as Jambalaya stumbled, tray in hoof, spilling potato salad all over Mystery Chaser. White Feather's lips formed a smile as he seized the opportunity. Seeing that Robikku already had Jambalaya taken care of, the ice blue pony sidled up to the table, placing a hoof on Mystery Chaser's shoulder. 'Are you okay?' White Feather said, catching her eye. 'That was a rather dreadful accident, now, wasn't it?' Using his touch and speech to redirect MC's attention, White Feather surreptitiously gave the attaché a kick, sliding it across the way to the floor under the next table, one which stood between them and the bar. Clean up, make small talk, go grab a drink, grab case, punch out. Execute.