Jump to content

Mutt

RP Certified
  • Posts

    88
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Mutt

  1. I have resolved to do everything in my power to maintain active roleplay in these shenanigans. I'm bugging Dubby near constantly to that effect.
  2. Finally getting back into roleplay after so long. Feels good to see people being happy and having fun over words.

    1. SymphonicFire
    2. Mutt

      Mutt

      Thankyou SymphonicFire. Thankyou Catbug!

  3. Oh there it is. Changed, woo.. My brain.

  4. Usually, if one is looking for a sucker, an individual would not have to look much further than the guy three people in front of Powder. The fluffy diamond dog does not look particularly at home in the arid climate, hailing from much colder regions if his appearance is anything to judge by. It seems that he is doing alright with the cool winds blowing in however. He approaches the cart with intense glee, how showy! It was terribly entertaining to his simple mind, and furthermore, the salesman reminds him of someone terribly dear to him. He is almost the perfect patsy, and as he approaches the cart with a bag full of jangle it seems like Gideon might be making a lucky sale indeed. This dog is clearly not particularly intelligent, with how sincerely his tail is wagging. In fact, one might go so far as call him slow, perhaps even honest and kind. Regardless, he steps up the cart and perks his ears especially much at the offer of lucky items. He remembers back to something he was once told: Succeeding in life is 30% Hard Work, 60% money, 10% talk and %100 luck... If he can BUY luck, he'll be halfway to success already! He feels incredibly shrewd for coming to this conclusion. As he approaches the display, he pauses, looks over the wares, and just stares. He thought these were good? They aren't good! They look nice, yes, but he might as well be selling opal if he wants to sell things with impurities... The dog pauses for a moment, and plucks a red gem out of the rubies, waving it in front of Gideon's face, as if to explain something to him. "Beryl! Not Corundum!" he insists, wagging. It was alright, he could help this dog get his shop organized! Obviously no-one would make the mistake of pricing red beryl with rubies, you can't make a profit on them like that. Obviously the rest must be mistakes too. He looks over the wares again with glee, the prospect of having work to do visibly excites him.
  5. Well, as I told Skye when I was altering it, I was only making small changes. I finished the edits the day it was moved over to this section. I've told him several times over Skype, but it would have behooved me to contact him privately, because Skype can get pretty hectic. I've been dumb.
  6. Happy birthday to me... Woo.

  7. Minimaxie drats and grumbles and drats again! as the pony expertly dodges her obviously incredibly complex and extraordinarily calculated assault on his person. She hmnfs and stops, staring down at the little bluish? pony, she's not sure, she's cold and tired, and hungry. "Oh hush you, I can take care of myself. I don't need anypony looking out for me. I am res.. pond..able enough to live on my own." she hisses, pulling the bag of ants out of her cloak and dumping them all over Sunrise. How rude! and mean. She takes no pleasure in it, because the filly has been nice to her, but examples must be made in the name of progress and world domination. She immediately goes back to looking at the group of spandex laden ponies, it was definitely time to figure out some way to take care of them, she must prove that nopony can possibly stand against her might, now matter how superheroic they are.
  8. Minimaxie grumbles to herself. Ponyville was stupid. Everywhere was stupid. No pony nowhere was gonna make her go to school. No way. Still. That doesn't mean she can't hang out up in a tree on the premises in her cloak. She watches the school as she has on a few occasions, with a glare. The foals, they have no idea, they do not understand her d..dia.. diatribes and monoto.. wait. No. Think Maxie think. Monologues! That sounds right. She scrapes a hoof gently against the branch that supports her. She was obviously the best pony at tree climbing anywhere, since ever. Still though, even those with goals of world domination and no love for the Princesses can still be lonely... Mostly though, she's just bored. Bored out of her mind, she is. Tabletop games are not as fun by yourself. She sometimes misses her, what was it? She can't remember, it had something to do with learning music. She sighs, she can't remember. She can't even remember her sister's face, or her mama, or papa, or where she lived. Sigh, that's fine though. She has a new place that was probably better, and a new fa... friend, who she was certain didn't know that she was living in her basement. (Said friend is perfectly happy to let her go on thinking she is unnoticed. ) "So bored." but hark? What is that on the horizon? Two pegasus in spandex suits? Superheroes? Perhaps this a chance for Minimaxie to really make a name for herself for the first time! Her busted horn sparks gently as she hefts a nectar filled balloon from within her cloak (that and a box of ants, she always keeps handy to use together) and takes aim. The aim is surprisingly accurate, and she whips the balloon at one of them, the goofy loookin' one. She of course thinks the guy is the goofy looking one. She watches with intense anticipation as time seems to slow down, watching and waiting. It was going to hit, she knew it would.
  9. Ugh. My world. It's crashing down around me and stuff.

  10. Sundrop Sprinkle awws and pouts as he is addressed by his parents. His father stands behind him, hoof tapping, and his mother addresses him firmly. "Now, Sundrop. I know you're hesitant to go outside again, but the doctor says you won't be healthy unless you start getting regular exercise. So you are going to go OUTSIDE right now mister, and going for a walk. Not a hover, not a skipping flutter. A walk. Your legs aren't going to get strong again unless you put weight on them." Sundrop pouts up at her, then looks away. "But.. Mooom. I'm already taking the medcine... Why can't I stay in and read? What if ... I fall off the clouds? I'm not strong enough... to get back up to Cloudsdale." he replies, his breathing still slightly labored. He has to pause to inhale occasionally. The medicine holds off his fever effectively, and though he is led to believe he's getting better, he's slightly immuno-compromised. The only way he'll get better is if he gets exercise and continues taking his medicine. Keeping him in the dark about his condition is difficult, but he doesn't need anything else weighing him down. He's disturbed enough as it is. "Not buts, little foal. You're not going to fall, Cloudsdale is very well constructed. I should know~ Now take your medicine." She picks up a small bottle and leans in, holding the spout in front of him. He sighs, pinning his ears and opens wide. He grimaces as the medicine is poured in, so sourrrr. So bitter. He hated it. But if he kept taking it he would get better. He swallows, and then is quickly shoo'd outside by an eager hoof. "Now go, have fun, get some exercise! It's time those beautiful wings of yours got some sunshine!" the door is closed behind him, and he wobbles on his legs. He looks about weakly, and sneakily begins to flutter his wings to alleviate some of the weight. A sharp cough from a window, obviously his mother, causes him to stop. Sundrop sighs, and begins taking slow, gentle steps along the clouds. The cushiony nature makes it a little bit easier on his legs, but each step is still a chore. He begins his walk, looking about weakly at all the happy pegasus zipping about gleefully. Why couldn't he just do that, it's not like he even needed legs! the foal sighs and wonders where he should go to. Maybe he could stop off somewhere for a cool drink.. Except.. He doesn't have any money. Drat. He wobbles a bit as he progresses, and looks back. His house is still only a few meters away. "Aww man, this is gonna take forevers.."
  11. Tenderbloom floats back in gently, balancing a tray of tea on her hooves. She sees the conversation had not progressed particularly far in her absence, and she shrugs gently, and sets the tray on the stump, cups clinking gently. She notices that there is tension in the air, but she fails to recognize that a fight may be about to break out. She has very little experience with violence in her life, and she assumes that Malediction is simply stretching. She picks up the kettle, gingerly, and begins to pour. Hot water swirls gently along the roasted leaves in the bottom of the cups, the scent of sweet tea rolling out into the open on wisps of steam. "I don't believe I have introduced myself. My name is Tenderbloom, and this is my family's home." she comments quietly. She looks extremely different without the plant sitting on her head. She is clean, well kept. Small flower, buttercups perhaps? Are braided into her mane and tail. An artful collection of loops and crosses with flowers littered in. She has a young face, slightly slender, showing the effects of a nearly ever present smile. Her body, similarly, is almost dainty, as though she has never done heavy lifting in her life. "Who are you two?" she continues, happily.
  12. Tenderbloom sighs as she works her way around to the entryway. Up into the sitting room, she rolls her eyes as she is addressed. "If that would work, I would have told you. Covering your ears helps a little, but not much." she continues, hovering past a collection of mossy cushions grouped around a wide stump. "I was wondering if either of you had seen her.. Not very big, energetic, fan of drama and monologuing. Wears a silly cloak... She's been so lonely since she lost her family. Poor thing. She hides it, but I can see it in her. I don't know why she acts this way, that girl's inner workings are an enigma..." she comments quietly, being uncharacteristically chatty, but this was an extreme situation. She was truly worried about her little friend. "Feel free to enjoy yourselves in the sitting room while I make up some more tea." she motions idly to a tray resting on the stump. "I'm afraid the tarts are a bit cold by now, but they keep very well. Help yourselves... I'll find something to send with you in a moment, right now I have to put Mr. Biggles to bed. He gets a bit cranky at night, you see... I'll be right back, please enjoy yourselves while I'm away. Oh, uhmn.. And please don't leave this room, I have sensitive cross pollination efforts in progress beyond here. Months of work, you see." she finishes, before continuing on deeper into her abode. She quickly vanishes off to the right.
  13. Minimaxie At the gala , in the party. With all the fancy ponies. They might be there. I shall surely see my family~ They will be there, they will see me We'll be together again! And my sister, will have missed me There inside the gala! Incandescence Stupid party, in the palace. How it keeps me up night. Even if I were invited I wouldn't go. All the ponies, milling about They will want so much from me Oh how I wish it all would stop, such a stupid gala!
  14. Tenderbloom sighs at the way her guests are behaving. She invited them to her home and they're being quite rude. Still, they are guests, and she should do her best to entertain them. She winces at Maledictions comment about her proclivities, and almost turns to snap at her, but she stops. She was out in the middle of the night, covered in plant, in Everfree. She does talk to herself and the plant on her head which a pony could be quite easily excused for not knowing was capable of active thought and response. She is aware that her use of mist cover and her ensemble, combined with this habit and her hushed voice, creates something of an unpleasant illusion. She knows this because her missing friend made her very aware of it. She holds her tongue, and continues up the winding ramp. She contemplates their requests, and decides to respond to them this time. "I would be happy to give you supplies, little one, but I think you're going the wrong way. I've heard there's a desert to the west of here, but I've never see it myself... Oh but I would love to go, just think of all the xerophyte specimens I could examine and collect... If only I had someone to take care of Mr. Biggles for me. They prefer marshland you see, he'd never survive in a desert. And, to you, miss.. Whoever you are. I did nothing. You attacked US, and Mr. Biggles simply responded in self defense. Say hello to the scary lady Mr. Biggles." she comments. The collection of plant matter on her body shifts slightly, and the bud on her head opens, just a fraction, and gives off a faint coo. "As for how to defend against it, one viable method would be to render yourself deaf. You're lucky Mr. Biggles is young, and alone. Stronger cries can even make breathing difficult." She stops, suddenly. "As long as you're here, I would like you to remain for at least a short time, so I may speak with you about something. A friend of mine has gone missing you see. She did not show up for tea today and her home shows no signs of recent use." she requests, before continuing on again. Just a few more passes around and they would be at the entry point.
  15. Edited, but regarding the motivations for his future and reason for his issues, as well as his future... I do not want to plot them out like that, and it would defeat the purpose of not having him understand himself. Just because, when he is alone, he entertains fantasies of becoming something unpleasant, does not mean it would happen. The future is an open book, and things can change so quickly. There is plenty of opportunity for him to develop and grow naturally, whether he gets better or worse depends on himself and those around him.
  16. [ Creature Related Character ] Roleplay type: World of Equestria RP Name: Incandescence Sex: Female Age: Child Species: Dragon Eye Color: Cloudy Grey Physique & Colors: A small dragon with an average body and slightly elongated arms and legs. A ridge of scales adorns her from tail to crown. Each angled back toward her tail, which ends in a point, no spade. Each tiny ridge is almost like the tooth of a rotary saw. Her belly and underside is covered in golden scales, which contain hints of pink, red and blue hues. Her back and sides contain a collection of blue scales with pink and red as an occasional intermediary, and a face of mostly blue tones. Incandescence considers herself to be a strong and masculine individual, but she's really not the best at supporting this viewpoint at times. Residence: A small bungalow in Canterlot, part of a student housing project, a small building built for one, and furnished with her earnings. Occupation: Magical Fax Machine, Personal Assistant, Cleanliness Aide (Maid), and ESPECIALLY Gofer Motivation: Incandescence is a bit of a directionless individual, but if we had to put a finger on one, it is currently keeping herself busy. The more she has that she can set her mind to, the less she has to think about herself. Likes: All manner of gemstones and metals, particularly bismuth. She has a healthy appetite for sulfur and magnesium as well. Actually, she'll eat just about anything she's allowed to, her cast iron furnace of a stomach is good for that. She also enjoys being praised. Actually, she thrives on praise, and though she pretends not to care, the very fact that someone voices a belief that she is worthwhile can keep her from descending into time consuming venting late at night, when she is alone (though she enjoys this as well, it is very satisfying.) She especially enjoys keeping scales polished, she says its because it reflects heat, but it is probably because she wishes to make a good presentation. Dislikes: Being a personal assistant, being asked to do things. Being TOLD to do things. Being alone at night with her thoughts. Ponies in general for no justifiable reason and talking about her real feelings to anyone. Character Summary: Incandescence was hatched at Celestia's Academy for Gifted Ponies some time ago. She does not remember the incident that led to her being alone, she simply knows that now she is alone and has developed an irrational fear of self-destructing. Perhaps the pony did not want her, or they left her for some other reason. The only thing she does know is a story of how she got her name. Regardless of the case, she is how she is. Incandescence is a happy dragon, a sad dragon, an angry dragon. But mostly, she is a busy dragon, and an unjustifiably angsty one. She now lives on the school grounds, awaiting the day things will change for her. Incandescence is a very busy dragon, because being a hard worker, she is very good at the things she does, and the things she does are numerous. At any given moment, she may be stopped around the school and surrounding grounds, and told to send a message, which she will as long as she can picture where or to whom she is supposed to send it to. At any given moment, a pony may pull her off the street to help them with transcribing, paper pushing, lifting and carrying, or dextrous tasks. At any given moment, she may be drug into a dining hall to scrub the floor with actively heated water. At any given moment, she may be given a fetch quest to complete. Her days are long, exhausting, and sometimes painful. However, she is well compensated for her troubles, some might say overcompensated, except for when those ponies charm her into not accepting payment (which is not particularly hard, as proper complimenting can sometimes make her wave her fee entirely.), or taking their... food, as payment. Perhaps they pity her, she doesn't know why, she doesn't need no stinking pony pity. She's just fine on her own, she didn't need anyone to bring her up. She's doing much better than she would have had she been with just one pony, she has connections now! or, well at least, people recognize her. Incandescence is a very angsty dragon, for reasons she fails to understand, but her methodology is always the same. She gets up, goes to work, and is perfectly happy to aid ponies in whatever task they desire, so long as they are happy to see her (and, usually, can pay). When they are not, or they are less than respectful, she still does what they ask of her, but she purposely drags her feet. She does this day in, day out, sunrise, sunset, seemingly ad infinitum, using her ability to pump up her internal flames to keep herself going. When she has free time, she reads to herself, or practices her special talent, and attempts to fulfill her love of cooking and plating. Her special fire talent, is of course breathing fire inside her own body. She can build it so hot, that her body shifts through a color spectrum, glowing with heat, She doesn't know how far she can push this, but never likes to go past blue. When she is not working, or reading, or practicing, she is thinking. She is alone with her thoughts, and this is why she is angsty. Alone, her thoughts mingle and muddle. She begins to grow angry. All these ponies, they use her. They use her for whatever they want, they don't like her, they like that she does things for them. She is simply a little helper monkey, how dare they treat her this way. It's not right, it's not fair. It will stop! Someday she will be powerful, and big, and then they will all see. These thoughts, untrue of course, but insistent and prevalent, run through her mind, though fade when she is with others, to be replaced by less vehement bottled qualms and anxieties, and desires she is unable to understand, hopes that she is afraid to recognize. Incandescence is an odd, lonely, hard working, happy, depressed, angry dragon. A dragon with no family, no direction, and no real friends. A dragon with many issues, and no way to understand them or begin to cope. She is a dragon, a dragon who lives alone in a world of ponies to whom she cannot relate. A dragon who can neither understand nor control her emotions. A dragon who is barely holding on to her happiness through hard work and socialization. Maybe some day she'll find a way to conquer her issues, and not have to struggle. Here's hoping.
  17. Tenderbloom hums quietly to herself, ignoring the conversation for now. She turns back away from them once they both begin to follow, and flutters of gently, bobbing up and down on occasion. To the west, and then to the south, she leads them. Definitely NOT, out of the forest. In fact, she just keeps moving deeper and deeper in. The greenery gets thicker, and only her humming distinguishes her creeper clad body from the rest of the forest. She soon comes to a sheer wall with the most complete and explosive covering of Kudzu one can imagine, countless crisscrossed creepers cover the cliff side. She travels down the side of the wall, then drops to the ground for the first time, and vanishes seamlessly into the wall, only a faint rustling showing where she once was. The humming continues, but begins to fade as the distance grows. She has vanished into a passage, long and winding, hidden by vertical hanging creepers, kept entirely free from tangling through either breeding or impossible gardening. Beyond it is a grove, vast and wide with a pristine stream circling most of the perimeter, bubbling out of the cliffs and vanishing into a pool. It runs in a counter clockwise direction. In the center, is a particularly massive tree, the trunk itself almost fifteen yards in diameter and nearly three times that in height. A ramp, a tree wrapped around this amalgam of trees, with a flattened top for travel, trails up its trunk. A carefully teased and pruned railing of branches travels it's length. A courtesy to visitors, as the family are all pegasi, and it is, indeed, a challenged to climb. At its top, are a large collection of branches forged into a living area of many rooms, with windows of hardened, clear sap, and some pane-less. This living areas is supported by a network of carefully placed, and equally tall trees, powerful, but also thin and slightly springy. It is a modest, but sizable centerpiece to the glade. The real attraction here is the incredible myriad of plants, some that glow faintly in the moonlight, others that make almost musical sounds as they rustle in the faint breeze that swirls in from a raving in one portion of the cliff-face. From this angle, it is apparent that the cliff-face is constructed of many smaller stones, glued awkwardly, but efficiently together, and shows sign of repair, as recently as sixty years ago. Generations upon generations have gone into the construction of this place, the latest and final of the family's home designs. By the stream, in a shallow depression on the east, rustle flax, transparent and glinting in the darkness, as though organic crystals. Each unique plant represents a lifetime of breeding by a member of the family. And then, there are the berries. Tomatoes, strawberries, cherries, blueberries, blackberries! Elder, goose, raspberries! Grapes, bananas, cranberries! And even more! All on the most adorable, tiny trees... Even those that shouldn't grow on trees! All roughly the same size, anything larger than a tomato is the size of a tomato. The watermelons are especially obvious in this regard. The trees are grouped in sections, coordinated expertly beside the stream, and just beyond them an odd, sticky wheat. A strange and mystical area, one wonders how pegasus would have created it, its natural beauty almost defies description. Tenderbloom hums softly, hovering once more, across a mossy tail that leads to the trunk, which she begins to ascend slowly, using the ramp, as a courtesy to her guests. Not the type to rush ahead unless strictly necessary. "I hope will enjoy your stay here!" she calls happily, while wincing at the volume. She smiles, not having bothered to make certain that they were still following her once she passed through the entrance to this enchanting space.
  18. He's... close to being a colt, he's not like 'little little'. He's just young. Again. I'm going with the guidelines on the application structure, where foals are listed as to being up to 'ten'. He's not a baby, he's a child. Plenty of children have active lives. Everybody keeps pointing out that human children and human babies, but heck, horses can walk a few minutes after birth. In the show young ponies are shown to be very self sufficient. The only real significant difference I've seen between the young ones and the standard cast is that the young ones always have someone looking after them. They have plenty of personality and plenty of interests. I'm just trying to a realistic portrayal of a person who's interest flit about under a wide canopy. I have not at any point stated proficiency in any of his interests, and I do not feel as though I have suggested he has a significant amount of knowledge in these areas. As for his father, it was never my intention for him to mix alcoholic drinks, as the only analogue to that I had seen in the show was salt. On the subject on the cutie mark, devaluing experiences of self discovery by saying they can only come through actively doing something is, I feel, a bit limiting. Plenty of people can have insights into who they are through experiencing an environment or even sitting quietly and thinking? Why should looking for and pining over the beauty in things be treated as a less viable means for getting a cutie mark than, say, having a healthy appetite for sports?
  19. Tenderbloom wobbles and tips headlong into a nearby tree. Hitting it with an unceremonious thud, Mr. Biggles is thankfully startled out of the dramatics, and goes quiet. The pegasus winces, fluttering gently back to the left, before giving a very concerted effort to hold a conversation at an acceptable level, while making two important observations. First, the unicorn is a big meanie, and, second, she finally met someone who doesn't topple over rigid for an extended period when her friend voices his displeasure. "Oh.. E-excuse me please, but that wasn't very nice, and I would much appreciate you not doing again. You see, Mr. Biggles doesn't respond well to stress. Little boy, it's not safe here." she raises a hoof, lifting the veil of creepers and exposing the face of a young filly, soft, gentle. Kept almost pristine with the use of balms and oils, and a largely stress free lifestyle. Small lines, almost imperceptible around the mouth relay a quiet nature, a voice often often used but never loud. Tiny imperfections dot her face, she is not perfect by far, but she is pretty, just enough, and not enough, to seem real even in the darkness of the forest. She floats a bit closer. "Miss, you can come too, but you have to promise to keep the fire to yourself. It frightens everybody and it's not nice to fling it at people, especially when they already have problems of their own that they're trying to take care of." she comments quickly, and quietly. "As it stands, anything that wasn't stunned will probably be heading in this direction very shortly, so we should be moving now, or.. soon." she turns her gaze to the very bitter unicorn. "I have a balm that will soothe your muscles and make it easier for you to coordinate after that, but you can only have it if you're good." she strafes around the group, keeping a good distance away from Malediction. "I have tea and tarts at home, I was expecting company, but they never came. Please, do follow me." she calls as she begins to slowly drift back into the trees with her previous, almost haunting grace. As much as she worried about Maxie, it would have to wait. Maxie was a strong girl, and there were obvious matters right in front of her that required personal attention.
  20. Tenderbloom floats in close, listening to the conversation, the unicorn was certainly mean! She perks up a bit at the topic, oh dear, something bad was about to happen. She squeaks, and then immediately pulls back away from the path of the gout of flame. So bright, her eyes! So cold! She twitches her ears as the flames lick at her body, it's unpleasantly cold! Oh dear, oh no. Mr. Biggles didn't react well to stress. "Mr. Biggles, don't, we'll find another way t..." she is cut off as the creature on her head lets out an inordinately loud wail, the warbling, baby like cry piercing and debilitating. She shudders violently, the sensation sending shivers down her body and making her flight pattern erratic, causing her to dance left and right aimlessly. Those with proper hearing, would not be so lucky. Unpleasant would be an understatement. It works into the ears, and the brain, the spine. It confuses the body and even locks up the system in many cases. Few creatures, and even fewer ponies are immune to the cries. She tries to shush him, but he won't stop. It continues to rise, soft thuds ringing out in the forest as unseen creatures drop from branches nearby and hit the floor of the forest. She struggles to right herself properly, getting a grip on the delightful tingles it causes her. Her tender hearing was good for something, at least. "Honey, dear.. Mr. Biggles. Please stop.. One of them might be friendly. Don't cry, it'll be alright.. Erk."
  21. Edited! Constructive Criticism (from multiple sources) was helpful. It turned out quite a bit better than it was before. Expounded upon his motivations, edited his physical details, redid his discovery, and added a disclaimer about the drinky mixy. Non-alcoholic drinks. No salt.
  22. A thick fog descends on the forest, slowly. The cool veil twirling and shifting gently as nature guides it along. Even so, if appeared from nowhere, and descended so quickly. Here, in Everfree, an occurrence simple for pegasi to duplicate, seems ominous, even threatening. It doesn't help that it's at night. A soft rustling rings out on the edge of hearing, through the leaves, vines swaying. On the edge of vision, a shadow darts about, there for a moment, and gone. A soft whisper rolls out, incomprehensible, but it carries, projects. It rings out firmly and travels deep down the spine in the spooky atmosphere. A flash of movement to the south, a figure exposed for just a moment. Shreds of.. something, trail behind it as it glides effortlessly through the air with nary a sound. It seems vaguely pony shaped, but the moves, so unnatural. Each little limb, tendril, moving of its own accord like tattered cloth flowing in the wind. Just as quickly as it appears, it vanishes, only to show up somewhere else, closer, closer! A ghost in Everfree, a ghost of the forest! It moves in with obvious and insidious intent! ~EARLIER~ Tenderbloom hovers about in her home, tending the plants, continuing her efforts to cross T. cocao and C. anthonyi, only time would tell if this batch actually worked. The latest in a long line of attempts, she kept getting closer, and closer. A soft hiss swirls out as a teapot wobbles, the pegasus perks up and smiles, fluttering over to the pot and taking it in her hooves gently. It was just about time for Maxie's weekend visit, and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect for her arrival. Into the sitting room with the pot, to a large stump rooted into the room, she gently fills each cup with bittersweet iron toned fluid, the gently roasted flavors and textures forming a sweet symphony of the delicate and refined. On a plate between the cups, lay a perfect pyramid of septuple berry tarts, pressed firmly and sun roasted until airy and flaky. Kept warm beside the hot water pipe, they have gained the perfect balance of crisp and chewy from the moisture. She settles in and waits, taking occasional sips of tea. Sunset was fast approaching, and she couldn't wait to share with her little friend all her fascinating exploits in the world of botany this week. Time passes. The tea has cooled. The tarts have gone cold. There is no sign of Maxie. Something is wrong. She quickly lifts herself off the ground and dives from a nearby window, her rear legs swaying beneath her as she begins a slow and steady descent to the ground... Maxie is never late for tea. Ever. She makes her way back around the tree, and peeks in to the small grove below the tree. Her cloak is gone, and there is no sign of anything being touched in some time. The fungi is beginning to grow back beyond the obvious bite marks. She has of course, secretly move anything HARMFUL to another area, can't let the poor dear poison herself or go into a fit! ... Maxie could have been gone for days! Oh this was not good, not good at all, the foolish little foal always insists on traveling alone. She darts back up into the air, into the tree, through the rooms, stopping in the sitting room to don and pack saddlebags, and then into a wide space. Faint glints of receding sunlight wash across a wide patch of loamy soil, in the center is a mass of tendrils, and beneath them, some sort of bud. Tenderbloom drops down, planting her front hooves into the soil and lowering her head until her chin is level with the dirt. "Come Mr. Biggles, our friend might be in danger, we have work to do." The petals on the bud twirl outward slightly, revealing a strange, flat face. It's almost like a rose, or a tulip, or both at the same time. It gives a soft cry and the tendrils begin to mill it through the soft soil toward her. Each little strand of creepers hooks into her mane, and the odd creature quickly pulls itself up atop her head. The network of countless leafy tendrils works over her, wrapping about her body and trailing at her sides, a living cloak, firmly affixed. She winces weakly, she will never get used to that. It is heartwarming though, she almost feels at one with nature. "The sun is going down, we must make haste. Tighten your grip." out the sunview, down to the ground, then back up again into the sky. She picks up speed, her friend aiding her in gathering moisture, she swirls it into a large, then cloud and slowly drags it down into the forest. The sun has set during the process, by the time she has finished it is dark, but it cannot be helped. The mist provided cover from many dangerous creatures that made their homes here. "Ohdear ohdear ohdear. She has to be around here somewhere. She only travels from here to town, and everyone is safe in Ponyville..." she comments quietly to herself as she descends below the canopy, her ears pinned back firmly in distress as she begins to flutter about in search. "Mr. Biggles, let me know if there are any ponies nearby, I know you can ask the forest." she quirks up as she feels a tug, and moves in that direction. Then back again, following the directions given to her, she can see faint figures, but as their identity has not been ascertained she does her best to keep her distance. But Mr. Biggles is insistent, so she moves closer. "Oh my, a little foal, and an adult, could one of them be Maxie? The older one sounds mean.. We may have to intervene, Mr. Biggles." she comments, before suddenly darting in closer.
  23. Yeees. This pony. You should play it. Forever.
  24. [ Pony Related Character ] Name: Tabaret Twist Gender: Male Age: Foal, just had a birthday! Going on colt. Species: Unicorn Pony Pelt Color: White Onyx, layered up his body in slightly varying tones. Mane/Tail Color & Style: Full back mane, mane and tail both shaggy, but of excellent quality. Not splits, high volume, high sheen. A deep Star of Bombay blue, with occasional hints of darker tones. (Un-dyed) Eye Color: Bluegreen. (On close inspection, seems like an opal. Green and blue with flecks of yellow and black, and small pockets of red fire. Gemstone terms! ) Cutie Mark: A pleat of satin doused with loose colorful gemstones. Physique: Androgynous Residence: Canterlot Occupation: None Yet Motivation: The pursuit of pretty things, beauty even. He loves them all. Fabrics, jewels, colorful drinks, rainbows, pretty ponies. Even a clear sky inspires him to a degree. Likes: All things pretty, sports, ballroom dancing, a soft spring rain. Dislikes: High winds, chipped hooves, and pickles. Character Summary: This unicorn was born the son of a bartender with great skill in fruit drinks and blended shakes. (No salt, no alcohol here. Not all bartenders serve such things y'know!), Mr. Mixer and a seamstress very proficient in making clothing for the general market, Mrs. Godet. Neither could agree on a name for him. Each wanted him to follow in their hoof-prints, and wanted to give him a particular name in the hopes that it would spur him on into their profession. Eventually they came to a compromise, and name him Tabaret Twist. A very outgoing and energetic child, he quickly made them proud. He showed intense interest in each of their professions, learning all he could as a young foal, in between classes and other activities at least. A vibrant and intelligent child, his tastes were wide and varying from the very beginning. His mother noticed he exhibited some very unorthodox plans for designs in fabrics and stitching, and while they weren't tried and true, they were nonetheless.. interesting. His father, noticed that his palate was excellent, though quirky. He was a fan of flavor combination no pony in their right mind would suggest, like avocado, pepper and mango. Even so, some of his ideas were downright BAD, and though he was quickly made aware of it, he still liked them. As he grew older, his desires began to define themselves, and though he dearly loved his parent's professions, he found that this was not the driving force between his desire to learn about them, instead, his exploration into them was based almost on novelty, he held the idea of fanciness and beauty to a high regard, so much so it was much of the driving force in his life. Slowly, he began to distance himself from his male friends in favor of spending time with the girls. He knew why, of course, the boys were athletic, loud, and very fun, but the girls had something the boys didn't. Pretty things. Dolls, dresses, quiet parties. He loved pretty things, they enamored him, and he enjoyed nothing more than trotting bouncily over to a friend's to put on fancy hats and drink sweet dandelion tea. He still participated in sports, bug hunting and other favored pastimes of the male demographic, but none were as fulfilling as the pursuit of beauty, refined or not. As he continued to study, and grew more in tune with his desires, he came to the realization that pretty is what he wanted to do with his life, he'd been doing it every day, pursuing the ideal, learning and expanding his tastes. Even in the bug hunts he wouldn't go for the biggest bugs, or the slimiest, he would collect butterflies and iridescent beetles. It didn't matter if it were fabrics, or drinks, or jewels! He just wanted to be part of it! He wanted beauty to be his life. The day he decided this, turned out to be stressful, one of his schoolmates had chastised him for showing too much interest in another pony's doll, causing him great embarrassment. It simmered in him all day long, making him furious. He probably shouldn't have argued that it was pretty enough to warrant his interest, but it was true! It just got him laughed at. Things turned a bit downhill after that, he would occasionally be teased about his interests, and he began to doubt himself. Really doubt himself. Maybe he should find something else in life to make him happy? Time passed, and, on his way home from school on a quiet spring day, his mixed feelings twirling in his body, heart aching. A soft rain picked up. The sound, the glorious sound sent shivers down his spine. He looked up to the sky, listening to the music of nature and letting it fill his being. The water, sailing through the sky, bouncing against itself and twirling in some vast, incomprehensible dance. Light from the late day sun shifting and bouncing through them, more beautiful than any gemstone. Each splash unique, tiny indecipherable patterns scattering with each landing. The leaves dipping as the water rolled over the branches, in a hurry to reach the ground. Even the worms, rolling on the surface in a dance of joyful confusion! A world of wonderment opened before him, his perception had expanded No longer did he have to LOOK to find what was pretty, he could see it was all around him! He could see beauty in most everything, even the stone beneath his feet. He was once again assured, who cares what anyone else says, or thinks? He wanted this, this ideal to be his life. He wanted to embrace it and promote it. Share it with the world, he paused, momentarily, and looked back, seeing on his flank a peculiar marking that had never been there before. It took him a moment to focus on it. Overjoyed, Tabaret raced home as quickly as he could, and proudly told his parent about his motivation, his talent for seeing and loving the beauty in things, his steadfast belief in it. They were overjoyed, but as time wore on, it became apparent that he was just a bit different than they had assumed. He began to ask his father how to make sweet, colorful drinks, and whenever his mother had a dress or a coat to make that was small enough, he would ask to model it for her instead of letting her use her dress dummy. More and more frequently, his interest began to skip wildly about a spectrum, from mud fighting to lace, back to climbing trees and again over to porcelain dolls. So many things, so strange. He didn't care, he knew what he wanted, it made him happy. He was perfectly happy wearing suits as well as dresses, mixing strong drinks as well as soft drinks (fruit of course! no salt in these). Never a confusion, never a doubt. His parents tried their best to be supportive, but were at a loss as to how to encourage him. They were glad he had such interest in the family professions. With his Seventh birthday coming up, they could not decide what to get him. It was an incredibly difficult decision. Do they take him out to party with his friends and let him wear whatever he wants, or do they have a quiet party at home? Do they buy him a book on fashion, drinks, or jewelry? Torn, they decide to allow him to choose what to do on his birthday, whatever the consequences may be. They will be behind him to support his decisions.
×
×
  • Create New...