Dio

Thanks, Rosie. I'll take care of this after I get out of this mountain of schoolwork

I always feel rude asking for art, but I finally decided to bite my tongue and do it. Can you render Acclaim for me? She's one of the Night Guard pegasi like the ones that pulled Luna's chariot in "Luna Eclipsed." Having her in Lunar Guard armor with the bat wings would be cool, too!

I mean, WHY would you want to try to change the destiny, and thus the past, present, and future, of a pony?

It could be posited that Starswirl's spell was an attempt to "break the bonds" of one's cutie mark. Throughout the series, it has been explicitly stated that a cutie mark is the mark of one's destiny and a reflection of their talents and worth as an individual. On the one hand, it gives those with cutie marks a reason for living and a concrete goal to strive for as they attempt to self-actualize. On the other, being locked down to one life path because of what one's cutie mark says can potentially be disheartening. Perhaps Starswirl was not trying to alter others' destinies, but his own; in the process allowing others to be free from what he saw as shackles to the whims of fate.

Equestrian mornings were always a thing of beauty. From grassy valley, across wheat-blanketed fields, sprawling apple orchards, and vast forest sweeps; from the lowest river plain to the highest mountaintop; from the expanses of the wild blue to the cloudy wisps at the dizzying reaches of the atmosphere, morning dawned. Fire kissed the horizon, a sultry red-orange glow that stretched its lucid rays across the earth, sea, sky, and aether.

A lone pegasus gingerly closed the locker door, hoofing the lock into place and giving the dial a twist. A blast of hot breath escaped her nostrils as she stepped out of the locker room. Freshly awakened muscles twitched beneath goldenrod-yellow fur while a jet black mane and tail ruffled softly in the wind. Stepping into the soft orange glow outside, the mare stretched her wings to their full extent, revealing black pinion tips, contrasting starkly with her subdued fur and plumage.

Sunrise was different from Cloudsdale. There was little dust or haze at altitude, allowing Sergeant Acclaim to enjoy a full unadulterated view of Celestia’s dawn. The sergeant was free of her usual regalia and appointments. No armor, saddle blankets, hoofguards, lances, tail or mane ties, or helms; only fur, feathers, and sinew. Acclaim smiled. This was was how a pegasus should live!

The sergeant stretched her legs and wings, working each appendage through its full range of motion and limbering each muscle as she reached it. She was back in the Twin Cities of Cloudsdale and Trottingham for R&R to be sure, but you could never quite take the army life out of a soldier. Endless PT routines drilled into her head a fixed waking time at “the flank crack of dawn” as civilians would put it. So there she stood, her hooves on the outermost ring of Cloudsdale’s famous Cloudeseum, the sky above, the sunrise below, and horizon before her.

Her warm up complete, Acclaim took a deep breath and leaped forward into the blue.

Double Tap followed Ghost Writer’s gaze around the room. The ceiling. The dresses. The floor. The windows. Not exactly the most interesting or distracting of views. But closer inspection seemed to suggest that the distraction was deliberate. Of course! How could he have forgotten? Ever-introverted Ghost Writer was flank-showoff Spotlight’s polar opposite when it came to interactions involving anypony other than the troupe itself.

[colour=#ff0000]“Well now from that little speech, I’d have to disagree.”[/colour] Taps gave Writer a sidelong smile. [colour=#ff0000]“In fact, I would say you’re quite good with your tongue.”[/colour]

Pausing a moment to let the jest sink in, he continued. [colour=#ff0000]“Come now. Not everypony is a brat like Spotlight or a high-society cur like some Canterlotians I know. Conversation and company isn’t as hard as you’re making it out to be.”[/colour]

I didn't expect this to cause such a stir. Thank you for your suggestions, Templar, but I will defer to RPH judgment on whether or not actual changes need to be made.

Bump for great justice.

Alistair Goldmane

It’s not the takedown, it’s the thrill of the hunt!

RP Type: Mane RP

Name: Master Gunnery Sergeant Alistair “Goldy” Goldmane, also responds to “Gunny” or “Master Guns”

Sex: Male

Age: Griffon nearing the end of his prime

Species: Griffon

Art courtesy of Elderflower!

Big cat colour scheme: White tiger

Raptor colour scheme: Harpy eagle

Eye colour: Green

Physique: toned, but not massive. Built more for endurance than raw strength.

Residence: Born in Talonopolis. Currently operating out of Stalliongrad.

Occupation: Former Aquellian Marine. Currently first mate of the airship Artorius and security chief when required.

Character History

The Goldmanes are a large clan living in the canyons of Aquellia. Though the clan has members throughout the country, the vast majority of them live near Talonopolis. The families run the gamut from factory workers to hunters to schoolteachers to Aquellian Marines. Alistair was born into a rural family near the outskirts and thus learned from an early age to be independent, self-sufficient, and keenly observant of the land.

Alistair grew up hunting and fishing in the Raptorclaw's alluvial plain. His family hunted, fished, and farmed the land for sustenance while his father and brothers worked in the Talonopolis factories. When he came of age, Alistair was encouraged to venture beyond the canyon confines on his fledgling pilgrimage. While some Goldmanes elected to venture out into the world on their own, Alistair was proud to count himself among those who enlisted in the marines. He was assigned to an airship that traveled overseas, giving him the taste of adventure he’d always wanted. After years of service, Alistair was honorably discharged with the rank of Master Gunnery Sergeant.

Upon his return, Alistair found himself burdened with ennui. All that could be done in his provincial life at home could not compare to the things he had seen and done on board ship across the sea. One day, while perusing additional employment opportunities in Talonopolis, Alistair discovered a flier requesting experienced former military griffons and ponies to staff a security company that guarded cargo running between Talonopolis and Stalliongrad. In his travels, Alistair had heard much about the city in the north. While he couldn’t care less about its industrial districts and shining spires, the unspoiled wilderness surrounding the city proper tempted him. Thus, with only a few words for his family, Alistair was off again, this time to Stalliongrad!

When he arrived he was amazed by the city's sheer size, diversity, and opportunity! It was even better than the recruiters had said! The company, a subsidiary of Kalinka Shipping, quickly assigned Alistair to the work pool where he was soon assigned to the airship Artorius under Captain Sturmovik. Though the good captain came off stern and uncompromising, the marine and the mariner soon warmed up to each other and became fast friends. To this day Alistair serves Sturmovik aboard the Artorius. He relishes in the adventure that seems to follow that ship, like an albatross, wherever it may venture.

Character Summary

Alistair has a special affinity for the great outdoors and a wide array of survival skills to go with it. In the wilderness, Alistair can always be counted upon to be able to start fires, set up camps, render them safe, and identify safe and unsafe food and water sources. On shore leave, he enjoys pub games like cards and billiards.

Despite growing up around Talonopolis and now living in Stalliongrad, Alistair has a strong dislike of the inner city. He very much prefers natural surroundings to the forests of glass, steel, and dead wood that comprise the larger cities in the world. The stuffiness of social functions and the need to be in suits or formal wear to even get in is a severe turnoff to a griffon who spent most of his career in ghillie suits or flight jackets.

The former marine is adventurous, gregarious, and always looking for something new to do. He loves the feel of the wind through his feathers and the thrill of taking game. Because of his hunting and military background he is adept at the use of bow, spear, and blade, though these days he prefers to do his fishing with a fishing rod. Age has mellowed Alistair out but not taken the vitality from him.

Note: This character is a rework of a character that I originally created, but gave away the rights to. The former player, Pony_Sage, has in private conversation given me back the rights to the character. Record of this can be found in Alistair's old application. This transfer has been authorized by Manestream.

Character rework in progress.

You are very much appreciated, lurv princess

- Sent from my Samsung Galaxy Tab using Tapatalk HD

We love you and miss you Science Pony.

- Sent from my Samsung Galaxy Tab using Tapatalk HD

Spotlight. Double Tap visibly bristled at the thought of her. If Ghost Writer would have let him get away with it, he’d have tarred Spotlight’s feathers long ago. The bratty, entitled, exasperating, prima donna showmare of a star was entertaining enough off set when she’d had enough drinks in her, but trying to keep everything together through costume changes, lighting changes, sound tweaks, and stage resets without her complaining about her hooves being scuffed or mane mussed or makeup smeared was getting to be unbearable. After the morning whirlwind of rehearsals, heavy lifting, and nonstop production headaches, Taps was looking forward to a light lunch and a heavy drink.

Of course as luck would have it, both would have to wait until after the current task was complete. Heavy lifting begot more heavy lifting, and while no draft horse, Double Tap was the only stallion with any experience handling such things on set. Thus it took only a nudge from Spotty dearest to have Ghost Writer send him rolling down the road, utility cart in tow, to fetch materials for the props inevitably ruined by a morning mishap involving a stage light, a bag of feathers, and a bottle of liquor.

“So... are you... well?”

The question was half-asked, half-stated, a dash of awkward, and all jarring. Double Tap snapped his head to Eloquence, nearly tripping over a small stone in the road while he did. He grunted as he righted himself, sighing at his own lapse in awareness. Thinking. Thinking was dangerous. He’d have to do it less often.

“Uh... Do you have the list of items we need to acquire?”

The question came again, half-asked, half-stated, with just a dash of awkwardness. Double Tap was one of the newer members of the troupe, having been hired on as a specialist stage hoof during their last stop in Canterlot and as of yet was not as intimately familiar with the mannerisms of the others so much as he was with Spotlight’s bravado and Ghost Writer’s particular... tastes. Eloquence, though, was an enigma, having kept mostly to herself during introductions and being quite quick about completing tasks before retreating to wherever it was zebras retreated to when their tasks were completed.

[colour=#ff0000]“List is in my saddle,”[/colour] Taps replied flatly, turning his eyes back to the road. [colour=#ff0000]“And alive, yes. Well, not so much. If I’d had my choice, my flank would be under a tree, asleep instead of hitched up to a cart headed for town.”[/colour]

Tick stammered a barely intelligible response. Of course he had an insider. Infiltration might have been possible against an enemy position in the dead of night, but getting your hooves into a bureaucracy as thick and thorough as the Royal Equestrian Army by yourself was a task bordering on impossible. Sometimes even the legitimate requests got filtered out because of it.

“Your orders, sir? Your highness?”

[colour=#000080]“You’re the expert.”[/colour]

But suddenly all eyes were upon Shining Armor. The captain’s eyes darted back and forth, first meeting the Princess, then the drill sergeant, then the terrified private Tick. Raising an eyebrow for a brief moment, the captain finally spoke. [colour=#0000ff]“Seems like you’re in a lot of hot water, private. We might be able to turn down the heat, but only if we know the whole story. So how far down does the rabbit hole go?”[/colour]

Documentation, documentation, documentation. History had a way of worming itself back into the present whenever the Princess was involved. Tea was the order of the day, a comforting routine in a morning that was expected to be quite eventful, should the Guard reports and Pathfinder’s purported knack for trouble hold true. Celestia had taken the time the night before to do some reading on the legend itself, but it was only now that she was able to get a clearer picture of the real world situation.

[colour=#ee82ee]“Good morning, Aunt Celestia! I hope you’re as excited as I am.”[/colour]

Celestia returned Cadence’s chipper greeting with a smile. [colour=#dda0dd]“The adjutant’s notes seem to indicate we’re in for an interesting time.”[/colour]

A squeaking and clacking of hooves on the marble floors indicated the arrival of another pony. Celestia looked up from her papers to find Luna skidding to a halt just outside the boardroom, slightly winded.

[colour=#000080]“Good morning,”[/colour] she squeaked.

Celestia stifled a giggle with a hoof. [colour=#dda0dd]“Good morning to you as well, sister. Care for some breakfast? The kitchen sent tea, hot chocolate, and coffee and some pastries for us. Pathfinder and company will be brought in when we are ready.”[/colour]

Being reworked. Moved to applications at OP request.

"Storm isn't my middle name... it's first and foremost!"

"Though I am not a native of these lands, your attention to their detail is impressive, milady," she complimented, her compulsion in the mare's presence causing her to use the honorific title. "I hail from the frozen crown of the world, a far harsher place than even this. Hopefully this journey proves a challenge even for myself. If all goes well, you shall not lack for tales to weave into your songs, bard. Perhaps your skills will even call the spirits to aid our passage through lands and caverns untold. We leave at dawn."

For a fraction of a split second, Celestia’s -- Andromeda’s -- smile faltered. Was the hammer mare so perceptive as to pierce her carefully-assembled persona at first glance? Regardless, it would not do to drop character. Besides, Mjolna, if her name were recalled correctly, seemed to be intent on wrapping up for the night. Andromeda had caught them at just the right time.

[colour=#4b0082]“I cannot guarantee the aid of the spirits,”[/colour] she replied. [colour=#4b0082]“But song and tale I am most excited for!”[/colour]

As Mjolna went back to nursing her drink, Andromeda glanced quickly at the assembled company. The lady of the hammer. A scholarly pegasus of the name Darkest Dawn. A gruff griffon whose name could have been misconstrued as the aftermath of a chili cookoff. Finally, a little mare with a big sword. Interesting characters to say the least. But most interesting of all were the unicorns that seemed to keep to themselves. Even without sampling the aether around her, Andromeda got a strange feeling from those two, a chill that seemed to transcend the draft that had just worked its way back down the fireplace flue. Destiny was obviously a mare of great intelligence and power; the overheard bits of conversation were enough to deduce that. But this “Strider,” was more difficult to read.

Andromeda shook her head, sniffing at her own overanalysis. She required more drink and more merriment. After all, this was VACATION! Work could wait until she got back to Canterlot.

[colour=#4b0082]"To adventure!"[/colour] she said with a smile, raising her stein high.

------

Andromeda bounded through the snow after Mjolna, her long loping strides more akin to a deer than a pony. It was all she could do to keep from breaking the spell and unsheathing her wings to take flight. She laughed with her excited comrades, the rush of wind through her mane both liberating and exhilarating. Few occasions had allowed her to be so involved in the world over which she held dominion, an irony that she who was to be in touch with her kingdom was kept sequestered away much of the time. But that would change. Andromeda would change it.

[colour=#4b0082]“So,”[/colour] she called to the hammer mare and the griffon. [colour=#4b0082]“Every place has tales attached to it, and Naskralar is no exception. Tell me, molot'chka, which of the tales drives your grand adventure?”[/colour]

[colour=#ff0000]“It’s all in good fun!”[/colour] he chuckled. [colour=#ff0000]“I’m sure Spotlight knows I have no interest in her flank. Sadly, neither does my hat.”[/colour]

Pulling the hat off Ghost Writer’s head with his magic, he held it aloft before him in mock Shakesbeardian eulogy. [colour=#ff0000]“Alas, poor hat, I knew him well!”[/colour]

The way he saw it, he was doing Spotlight a favour. After all, if she had actually taken her manuscript to be published, it would have been the laughingstock of the publisher. He hadn’t seen such tripe since he’d had the misfortune of selecting from his mother’s “other” bookshelf when he was bored and in need of reading material. Needless to say, romance was not Double Tap’s favorite genre, though Spotlight seemed to be starry-eyed and dizzy-brained over it.

And so with merely the flick of a hoof, the manuscript was put out of its misery, the victim of a half-pint of cheap domestic brew that Taps had hardly considered drinkable anyways. Two birds with one stone as the hunter griffon would say. Spotlight, however, was less than amused.

[colour=#ff0000]“I knew she wasn’t happy about my work, but I really do wish she hadn’t taken it out on my previous hat,”[/colour] he sighed, flipping the fedora onto his head. [colour=#ff0000]“Now as for the Gala, there are many things you can do!”[/colour]

[colour=#ff0000]“I was there a few years ago while I was still, er, freelancing. There’s food, music, dancing, socializing, DRINKS. And let me TELL you about those drinks. Best bartenders in Equestria; the Princess must have gone out of her way to find them! I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a GREAT time to me!”[/colour]

Another day, another batch of letters. The sheer variety of mail was astounding. Personal stories, silly anecdotes, friendship reports, and like this one, the occasional tale of perdition and reconciliation.

Two letters asking about redemption at once? Well, this was certainly a fine coincidence.

At a nearby table, the quiet sizzle of carbonated drink was overshadowed by the low hum of magic as a frothy stein lifted off its surface encased in the violet glow of unicorn magic. The flight of the stein was quickly followed by the clip-clop of hooves on stone. A shapely figure sauntered up to the gathering at Mjolna’s table, covered by a thick hooded cloak of deep purple. A stroke of a hoof and the hood dropped to her shoulders, revealing a pair of amethyst eyes, a pearlescent horn, and a self-assured grin.

The unicorn mare was unusual to say the least. She was tall and leggy, dextrous without appearing frail, and fit without being obnoxious. Her lovely violet locks fell loosely across her neck, with a similar-coloured tail tied at the base and trimmed so as not to drag or catch. Cinched over her chest, a vest of wool and canvas doing double duty for warmth and style. Her appointments appeared well-traveled, the clasps scratched and worn, but not neglected in care and the cloak soft and rumpled, but well-hemmed and cleaned.

[colour=#4b0082]“Dobriy dyen, molot’chka. Good day to you, molot’chka!”[/colour] she began cheerily, prefacing her piece with a bit of local tongue. After all, it could be presumed that locals would gather in a local pub, could it not? The unicorn paused a moment to let her greeting sink in. Of course, in spite of the bravado, Andromeda was not merely just Andromeda. Her command of Stallian, style of mane and tail, and the lavish, if well-traveled gear she equipped were merely a smokescreen.

After all, a princess could not outright say that her vacation in Stalliongrad was to be spent ”adventuring.” It was dangerous. It was risky. It was improper. But like a siren song wafting across the sea, the world of Equestria called to her. The winds of fortune beckoned, gently caressing her psyche with the temptation of excitement and adventure outside the hallowed halls of Canterlot castle where she would ordinarily be sequestered. She had to do something, go somewhere, be something else. Surely there was something exciting for a Princess in the wide world of Equestria?

Before, Celestia was merely toying with the idea, but now she was certain. She had it... wanderlust. It was virulent and it was highly uncomfortable. She had to find some way, ANY way, to quench it... and so she found herself at this particular establishment outside Stalliongrad, in costume, in character, and in luck. A spell here, a spell there for cosmetic manipulation, some creative use of mane dye and proper attire, and a princess was no longer a princess insofar as her appearances went.

[colour=#4b0082]“They call me Andromeda,”[/colour] Celestia smiled, brushing her mane out of her eyes with a hoof. [colour=#4b0082]“Traveling storyteller, crafter of spells, and pony of all trades. They told me if it was adventure I sought, to come to this table! So what say you, molot’chka; Lady of the hammer and her mighty company? Have you room for one more?”[/colour]

Thunder.

Thunder.

Thunder.

Thunderlane!

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Thunderlane

Stormclouds? Fast? You came to the right guy!

RP Type: Mane RP

Name: Thunderlane

Sex: Male

Age: Stallion

Species: Pegasus

Eyes: Auric (#E4CF86)

Coat: Gunmetal grey.

Mane/Tail: Cerulean, with alternating streaks of sky blue. Mane is cut short and sticks straight up. Practical and cool! Tail is clipped shorter to keep it out of the way while flying.

Physique: Rough, tough, and ready to take on anything! An athletic build, on the muscular side.

Residence: Ponyville born and raised!

Occupation: Ponyville weather team, stormmaker/breaker. Wonderbolt candidate!

Cutie Mark: A grey windblown storm cloud with a single lightning bolt coming out of it, symbolizing his talents at stormbreaking.

Character History

The son of an earth pony quill salespony and a veteran weather mare, Thunderlane is Ponyville born and raised and one hundred percent Heartland pony. His colthood days were spent climbing rocks, going on hikes, and playing hoofball with his friends. His athletic affinity and passion for hoofball made him quite popular in school. There was even talk of him growing up to join the Hoofington Club professional team. But as is often the case for childhood aspirations, a grown Thunderlane developed very different plans.

With the birth of his brother Rumble, Thunderlane found himself the go to example for everything, including working his wings. Their mother insisted that Thunderlane take a balanced approach to his athletics, learning grace on both hoof and wing. With gritted teeth, Thunderlane accepted the trip to flight school in Cloudsdale. The trip was an eye-opener for a young Thunderlane. Instead of just a way to get around, flying was an EXPERIENCE, one that Thunderlane just couldn’t get enough of. He was even more thrilled when they began teaching the basics of weather work. It was then that Thunderlane realized he wanted to fly, and fly well.

After his first stint with flight school, Thunderlane jumped at opportunities to work weather, often going in with his mother, picking up a few bits change while learning on the job. Wanting to push her son further, Thunderlane’s mother put him in charge of some of the younger weather ponies when a storm was scheduled for Ponyville. Jumping at the chance, Thunderlane planned, directed, and crafted the best storm he could with his friends. With all the thunder and lightning and rain going on, Thunderlane hardly noticed that his cutie mark had appeared!

He followed up on his success with a permanent post with Ponyville’s weather team. His special talent was realized and his perfect job was already his. What more could he want? Ever the athlete, Thunderlane told himself that he couldn’t stop there. What was next? The WONDERBOLTS. With his family cheering him on, Thunderlane trained hard and applied for the Wonderbolts, eventually securing himself a spot in their academy program as a cadet. Though he knows he isn’t quite a natural aerobatics ace like that rainbow-maned one, Thunderlane tries hard, working his stormbreaking techniques into his routines and doing his best to improve as he goes.

Character Summary

Thunderlane is a consummate athlete, if only in mindset. While not as gifted in flight as some of his classmates, he works and plays hard, making up for lack of raw talent with carefully practiced skill and endless determination. His jock label and well-toned physique made him quite a hit with the fillies in school, though he was a bit sheepish about the attention. His need to be an exemplar for his brother and stay scandal-free for his athletic career kept him from getting too deeply involved with anypony.

In spite of his physique, Thunderlane is not a musclehead. His weather work with his mother taught him many things about meteorology and astronomy, reading the sky and the seasons to make the appropriate weather shine and inappropriate weather disappear on command. He is very much a tactile learner, preferring to get hooves-on work in to learn the ropes rather than reading it in a book.

Off the field and off the job, Thunderlane is laid back, enjoying jokes, drinks, and friendly competition. Thunderlane still plays hoofball and follows the Hoofington Club, though his dreams lie firmly in the clouds.

Miscellaneous

Trottingham United? Booooooo! Hisssssss! He's also a bit of an amateur chef.

[colour=#ff0000]“Funny you should mention that, Spotty dearest! I seem to be smelling some pinions burning myself, though they most certainly don’t belong to Ghost Writer...”[/colour]

Floating in the reddish glow of unicorn magic, a black pinstriped fedora moseyed around a sale rack of discount dresses, doing a little twirl before settling on Spotlight’s head. Around the same sale rack stepped a tall lithe stallion, his fire-coloured mane spiked high, his tail trimmed short, and a smug grin dominating his face. A merry jingling could be heard as he rounded the racks, eventually revealing itself to be the sound of his pocket-watch swinging from its chain around his one of his front hooves. With a chuckle, the stallion twirled his watch once, twice, three times around, flinging it up before opening the pocket of his black suit vest with his magic, allowing the watch to land squarely in its resting place.

[colour=#ff0000]“Thank you very much for the help, Miss Rarity,”[/colour] Double Tap threw over his shoulder as he breezed past Spotlight to finally settle next to Ghost Writer. [colour=#ff0000]“I think this hat will very nicely replace the one that met its untimely demise at the hooves of Spotlight’s bony flank!”[/colour]

As if to drive home the point, the hat settled on Spotlight’s head was given an ever so slight tip, just enough to cause its brim to fall in front of Spotlight’s eyes. Snickering puckishly, Double Tap gave Rarity a wink and an almost imperceptible wave of a hoof, a subtle gesture to continue. As much as he enjoyed addling Spotlight, he had to agree with her that Ghost Writer was desperately in need of proper attire for the Gala. More importantly, she was in desperate need to get out and socialize! His proverbial song and dance complete, Taps finally turned to his playwright, friend, and off-duty boss.

[colour=#ff0000]“So what brings you out of the writing room? Did Spotlight manage to blow all of last bill’s earnings on salt lick and diamonds already?”[/colour]

I got my parents each spillproof thermos mugs, perfect for tea since they're both big tea drinkers. For my brother I got a collectible Minecraft torch.

I'll probably buy myself something nice once I figure out budgeting for this coming semester.

- sent from my HTC Evo using Tapatalk 2

Sorry for your loss! Hope everything gets back to normal soon! Take all the time you need!