Pony_Sage

One would be surprised by how much simple cable management can improve airflow and make your computer more efficient at cooling the MoBo, GPU, and CPU.

~Sage

Up in the first post there is a link to the website of the company that I had build it for me. Falcon Nortwest is that company. Their customer support is amazing and their attention to detail is top notch. If you are in the market for a performance machine, I would suggest no other company. I stand by their products 120%.

~Sage

P.S. Sorry about your computer getting eaten by a pawn shop, times are hard all around, and I hope that you pick up one soon!

Hello everyone. I am not one to make frivolous posts, or that many posts to begin with. However I think there is a piece of technology that often gets overlooked and under appreciated. It may be the subject of your ire at times but it has been there for you through thick and thin. It shows you funny pictures and videos, prints your papers, remembers your name and your birthday, and even doesn't judge you for how messy your room is. That's right this Thanksgiving season I think we should take a moment to thank our computers for all they put up with, and everything they do for us. Maybe treat them to a few cans of air and blow out that dust you have been ignoring!

Pretty much this thread lets you post your rig's stats, what you have personally done to improve your computer, some benchmarks if you have them, and maybe a few pictures!

My girl is a custom built Falcon Nortwest Talon. Her birthday is October 31st of this year, barely a month old! I do have to say that she was absurdly expensive, but worth every penny. I rationalized the purchase as an early birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, Hearth's Warming Eve present ... for the next few years.

Behind this spoiler tag are the components from the invoice of what I had built.

SP1225FDB12M SCYTHE FAN - 1400RPM - 120MM - FDB

2x SCYTHE FAN - 800RPM - 120MM

SS-ST1000P SILVERSTONE ST1000P MODULAR 1000W PS

AS-Z87PLUS ASUS Z87 PLUS MOTHERBOARD

INTCI74770K INTEL CORE I7 4770K 3.5GHZ

ASTK-G4550LC ASETEK 120MM LIQUID COOLER 550LC

2x GS-8GB1866RS G.SKILL 8GB 1866MHZ DDR3 RIPJAWS (16GB)

2x NVGTX760E_2761 EVGA GEFORCE GTX760 2GB PCIE

CR-M500.120 CRUCIAL M500 SSD - 120GB (OS HERE)

WD1002FAEX WESTERN DIGITAL BLACK - 1TB

AS-DRW-24B1ST ASUS DRW-24B1ST 16X DVD+-RW BLACK

3D Mark has a great software for testing your computer's graphics card(s). The best part is that it is free to use from steam! If you haven't benchmarked your computer yet, and would like to be able to brag about your scores, head over to steam and download the program!

Ice Storm - 188,945 Cloud Gate - 29,625 Fire Strike - 9,223

The scores follow the names and the links will provide a breakdown of how they stack up against other computers that were tested.

I have recently overclocked the core i7 CPU from its base clock of 3.5 GHz to 4.5 GHz, that's a 24% improvement! The scores reflect CPU in it's overclocked state. I have yet to overclock the GPU, however. I am contemplating this but honestly since I am running two GeForce GTX 760's SLIed together, I don't feel it is necessary for gaming. Although, I know that the scores would increase if I overclocked them and ran the benchmark again. At the moment I can throw pretty much any game at my girl on the highest settings and it never falls below 60 FPS. I have it limited at 60 so that it won't over tax the GPU and allow for more physics calculations rather than just increasing the FPS.

Now for some photos! Please excuse the quality, but here she is. My baby.

Well, that's pretty much that. Just figured I would start a thread about giving thanks to the computers that we take for granted every day. (Maybe to brag a little, but what else is a proud owner to do!?)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

~Sage

Veracity was starting to understand Figment’s personality a little more so than she had initially. He was not nearly as cruel as most other changelings that she had heard reports of, this one seemed rather industrious. She listened to his concerns, both about feeding and blowing his cover. Although she had no experience with an undercover operation, she surmised that it was a heap of work to come up with an entirely new identity. She thought about his questions for a brief moment, counting in her head.

‘Two twenty five, two twenty six, two twenty seven ...’ Her mind ticked with the precision of a pocket watch.

Aboard the Moral Constraints alarm bells had sounded; about two and a half minutes ago. The signalstallion of the watch had first seen the distress signal and sounded the alarms. Apparently the Captain was in trouble and it was their job to rescue her. As the crystal on Veracity’s end broke, the receiver aboard the ship sprung to life, pinpointing her location down to a margin of error of only a few meters. This new distress beacon was truly a work of art which had been the last piece of new technology installed in the old frame while it was laid up for retrofitting. This system had come directly from some of Canterlot’s brightest minds. Apparently it worked on the principle of Aetheric Quantum Entanglement, something that one of those eggheads in that Gifted Unicorn school surely thought up. However, it did have its practical uses. Basically one a set of crystals were paired with a main crystal that was aboard the Moral Constraints; integrated well within the system. These paired crystals would have an influence upon the ship’s crystal through interactions within the aetheric plane. When the sending crystal was moved, the receiving crystal would move accordingly, albeit in a drastically reduced manner. It was on this idea that the tracking system came about. Through a series of very complicated mechanical systems, that reduced movement was transferred to a pointer that would move over a map of the local area. This allows for constant monitoring of the sender’s location. The eggheads even thought up an emergency protocol. If the sender was in danger, all they had to do was smash the crystal. This would cause a rather vigorous reaction to the ship’s crystal and set off an integrated alarm system, along with locking the position where it was smashed onto the map. From that point forward it would be the crew’s job to get the ship where it needed to go.

As a matter of course, the Captain’s distress signal was treated with the utmost importance. Whether it was a drill or an actual emergency did not matter, the crew was ready to do what they had to so that the ship would arrive within the seven minutes that the Navigator said that they would. The navigators, engineers, helmsstallions, and all the other departments of the ship were feeding information to the Captain of the Watch. Hopefully he was up for the job. As the information flooded in, the mooring lines were cast off and the ship rocked slightly as the ARG tank was charged. The Moral Constraints was underway. The ship slowly rose out of the frigid water, ice clinging to its bow. The Halo engines quickly revved up to peak efficiency as the props began to spin up. The Captain of the watch reached over the helms-stallions shoulder and pushed the engine order telegraph past Ahead Full to Flank speed. While flank speed was a tad risky, owing to overheating and fuel consumption, the extra boost in velocity would be well worth it.

The flank speed order rang in the engine room and the engineers went to their stations, double timed. As the fires were stoked, and the boilers began to build up pressure, the Chief Engineer opened the giant butterfly valve that would divert the steam into the superheater. By doing this they could achieve a higher pressure and thus greater speeds could be coaxed out of the engines. The Halo engines began to sing in pleasure as the extra pressure was fed into them. Efficiency was down twenty percent, but RPMs were up thirty. Seemed like a fair trade if the Captain was in danger. Another engineer rotated some valves that would allow for the port and starboard fan nacelles to rotate over their prescribed limits, thus increasing both maneuverability and speed.

The crew was working like they should. A well oiled machine designed for one purpose, to fly airships. As orders were given and information received, the Moral constraints was steadily rising to cruising altitude and quickly gaining speed.

“Seventy! Eighty! Ninety!” The helms-stallion was calling out the ship’s calculated ground speed.

“One ten! One twenty! One thirty!” The numbers steadily rose until they were slightly above the ship’s true maximum speed.

While they sped towards Veracity’s location, the detachment of the ISU-143 “Molot” was being prepped for takeoff. These stallions weren’t nicknamed the “Sledgehammers” or “Molot” for no reason. They were the tough of the tough. A special crack team organized for fast boarding actions against pirate vessels. They donned their armour and steeled their nerves, unsure of what awaited them once they reached their destination. Every precaution was being taken for this encounter, even the loading of the main weapons.

The twin forward mounted cannons had their shells diligently loaded into them by the gunners. The sights were aligned, mechanicals checked and rechecked, articulation tested, and rounds counted. These beasts were the very, very last resort for the crew. None of the ponies on board were very fond of the idea of having them be featured so prominently on the bow of the ship, but they resigned themselves to the fact that they would be very useful as deterrents. The Empress may protect, but a loaded cannon never hurt. These two cannons were rather special. They had been cast especially for the Moral Constraints, nothing like them was in common use at the moment. With a sustainable rate of fire around two hundred and sixty rounds per minute and firing one hundred and eighty degrees out of phase, this afforded for a rate of fire somewhere near five hundred and twenty round per minute. The effective range of four kilometers and a muzzle velocity of seven hundred eighty meters per second also didn’t hurt. If the crew never had to use these monsters it would be far too soon, but as the old adage goes, “Walk softly but carry a big stick.” And these were the biggest sticks around.

Veracity smiled before answering the diminutive changeling. “Well, the legal process is mroe of a formality, I would assume. They will most likely declare a sentence of banishment and just have you shipped back to the hive. Your cover will be blown, to an extent. I would guess, especially with your new plan being discussed, that only the higher ranking officers and officials in Stalliongrad would know about who you pretend to be. I doubt that they would post wanted pictures all over just for one or two measly changelings that had already been deported.” All the while Veracity kept a cheerful tone and counted in her head. ‘Three ten, three eleven, three twelve.’ Somehow she had to keep them busy for at least seven more minutes.

“As for your feedings, I honestly don’t know how they work or what specifics behind them are, but I would gladly offer you a small ration of whatever you would need to take from me to survive. Although I might not be the best candidate. From what I hear, you guys feed on love and the like. I’m afraid that my days of love and romance are far behind me, and I am not the most … motherly of mares.” She allowed for a slight chuckle at this thought. ‘Three forty four, three forty five, three forty six.’

The Moral Constraints was fast approaching the Kuznitza District where the beacon had last been active. The problem was, if they wanted to stop in time, they would have to start slowing down before they got anywhere near the district. The inherent problem with airships was that they took a very long time to slow down, unless one was to do something dangerous or rather stupid. The second problem would be finding which exact warehouse or building Captain Veracity was hold up in. This would be the part that took the most time. The standard operating procedure would be to blanket the area with recon teams and do a grid search until they found the signs of the captain and then piece things together from there. However with the advent of the crystals, their search was much more narrow. As the eggheads had kindly reminded the crew, the crystals were accurate to within 500 meters. That was still a lot of ground to cover, but it was less than the old method. The Moral Constraints was slowing down now, they would arrive at their destination on the far side of the Kuznitza District, bordering on the Veya district, within four minutes. The detachment of the Molot was ready to go and the recon teams were on deck in formation awaiting orders. They were working like a well oiled machine.

Veracity patiently listened to Figment speak to the bureaucrat, talking about how he would be too weak to cover a retreat or attack. Then the little changeling made an all too obvious allusion to running, Veracity couldn't help but internally chuckle at how blatant he was. Before she could ask any further questions or make any more offers the ever increasingly annoying finally made his move. He ordered the mare to stand down and move away in a manner that would allow for his escape.Veracity’s mind was awash with alternate scenarios on how this was going to play out. From her combat days all the tactics came back for avoiding magic spells. ‘Four thirty, four thirty one, four thirty two.’ Her mind kept ticking like a watch.

The first order of business was to identify the source of the spell. ‘Check.’ Then one would identify the type of spell being cast. This could be tricky if the spell wasn’t cast yet, however there were some old methods that might work. The colour wasn’t all that helpful but the smell is what tipped her off. Being a pegasus as soon as she smelled the ozone that the spell was giving off she knew that electricity would be involved in some manner. The courses of action changed in the mare’s head. There were two ways to play this. She could either quickly drive her sword into the floor, providing an easy path to ground for the energy, and then throw her hat at the changeling which would most likely disorient him. She would then use this advantage to shoulder check the annoying changeling into the nearby wall. Or, she could just play along. She could look scared, play the damsel in distress. She would keep letting the superbly annoying changeling think he has the upperhand. She had been doing this from the start, allowing him to think that he was somehow in control. ‘Four fifty nine, Five, five one, five two, five three.’ His timing couldn’t have been any better. If she played this slowly enough, the ship would arrive with time to spare. Even if he did manage to escape the building, the scouts that would be scouring the area would find him more than easily and take him into custody. That was if the ISU didn’t catch him first, which would then lead to the changeling most likely getting a rather hardy introduction to the finer points of combat.

The Moral Constraints was almost at a full stop now, she had been slowing down for the past two minutes, and they were only about a minute away from deployment. The Officer of the Watch started a countdown timer at T- 00h:02m:30s. The tension was palpable as the crew readied for combat maneuvers. The ISU detachment was standing on the gunwales with their rappelling ropes at the ready. The recon teams were warming up their wings and doing final checks of their gear and feathers. At T- 00h:02m:00s a bell sounded and a voice came over the loudspeaker informing the crew to be at their battle stations. The flight squads took off and began to form up around the Moral Constraints scanning the ground below for obvious signs of trouble and waiting for their mark. Everypony on board was beyond tense as the clock slowly ticked down.

Veracity put on her best intimidated face, not something that she was accustomed to doing, as she eyed the changeling for a few moments. ‘Five ten, five eleven, five twelve.’ Four more minutes, give or take. She hoped that the crystal as intended but she didn’t need to hope that her crew knew what to do. She trusted those stallions and mares with her life, and they with hers. She knew that they were prepared for any eventuality and would be there promptly to bail her out of any jam. She just hoped that the egghead unicorns had made the crystals work properly. The mare complied with the changeling’s requests, albeit very slowly. She was waiting out the clock and it was working. ‘Five twenty nine, five thirty, five thirty one.’ Little did she know that the ship was only about two minutes out from her position, way ahead of schedule, and the flight recon teams were chomping at the bit to deploy as she thought five thirty. If that slimy changeling were to run, he would most likely be caught. Even if he managed to change into pony form, the crew would detain anypony in the area, not releasing them until the captain was found, or they were satisfied that the pony in question wasn't the culprit.

As Veracity placed her hooves on the wall she allowed herself a small smirk. This changeling didn’t know what he had gotten himself into.

Rivet smiled and shook her head gently. ‘Such a nice pony.’ She thought to herself. She lifted a hoof as she turned to leave, waving it in a manner that suggested goodbye and sleep tight. The little mare had a lot of work to do this evening, she would not only have to take care of the lighthouse, but she would actually have to work on something that wasn’t a pet project. She had butterflies in her stomach, as she always did when undertaking a new project. Her mind was racing with thoughts and ideas of how to finish the items in a more timely manner. If she pushed herself, she could most likely finish the first, more simple, brace before Martel would awake the next morning. This is the goal that she set for herself, she wanted to surprise him in the morning with a brand new shiny brace.

After Rivet left the bedroom she giddily pranced about in a small circle before slipping off her typewriter and taking off to her workbench. Sure it would be a long sleepless night, but the look on Martel’s face would be entirely worth the sleep deprivation. Rivet set about her work, she began gathering the supplies that she would require, along with some that she might not need, often referring back to the schematics that she had drawn up earlier. Hopefully the sound of the engines churning, the water boiling, and the general cacophony of steam workings coupled with her tinkering wouldn't keep Martel up for too long; he had seemed very tired from his arduous trip.

‘Finally, at least one of them is seeing some form of reason.’ The seasoned military mare thought to herself. The bedraggled changeling returned her hoof shake, a good sign. She crooked her fetlock joint around his and sternly shook it up and down two or three times before returning to her regular standing position. While she was speaking to Figment as he said his name was, the other much more annoying changeling was trying to rebuke her statements. However now he was showing a more amiable side which Veracity found to be rather suspect. She raised one of her eyebrows in obvious disbelief of how the bureaucrat was acting. Turning her attention back towards Figment she began to answer his request.

“Unfortunately I can not do that for you. As I said, you both will be returned to your home hive unharmed, but you both do need to be processed through the judicial system and your activities reported. the vast majority of ponies still see you as criminals, which is reasonable. However if you make a gesture of good faith and turn yourselves in, can assure you that no harm will befall you.” She spoke with authority but this time there was more concern than ire in her voice.

The next thing that the bureaucrat said piqued her interest even more. ‘A plan to harvest sustenance from us, Hrm. This might have been a more valuable catch than I had initially thought.’ The mare surmised. However again, this changeling wanted to slip through the cracks. He thought he was being crafty, however, Veracity by virtue of being older than most others thought, had worked with slippery delinquents before.

“Now, I didn’t catch your name. However in response to your suggestion I can not do this either. If you do have a plan for this, it would be much more prudent to speak of this with the authorities here first, don’t you think Figment? I mean it’s not worth telling your Queen about if it wouldn’t work out in the first place, that would just make you look like a bad agent. At least that’s what I would think, how about you Figment?” She gently smiled as she tried her hoof at playing the two changeling s off of one another. She had an inkling that Figment would be much easier to sway to her point of view than the other would be.

“So, down to business. I am going to call my ship shortly. I would recommend not making any sudden movements around my crew, along with not speaking unless you are spoken to. You will be sharing a vacant crewman’s cabin together, and there will be a guard at the door. I am not sure about your dietary needs however. Would regular pony food suffice? Or would you need something different? Arrangements can be made if that is needed. The judicial system here may be different from your own, but I assure you that above all else it is fair. Along with that I will make sure that you receive the most fitting legal counsel that can be found.” As she spoke she pulled out a small crystal from her uniform pocket and placed it on the ground. With one swift stomp she crushed the pale pink crystal into smithereens.

“By my guess it will take about fifteen minutes or so for the Moral Constraints to get here. Do you have any questions about the procedures or formalities that you are about to encounter? I’m not a lawyer but I can answer some of the more simple questions.” Veracity faintly smiled. She had lied about the time frame, the ship would arrive most likely in under ten minutes. She would much rather the two be kept on their toes than them getting the upperhoof on her.

There is a tag in the front that states it to be a final draft, I shall append one in the topic however. I will comply with removing human years, although I would like to at least state the reason for using them. They are a rather solid metric of describing in a succinct way how an individual will act in general. Think of this, an adult is a very broad age range. Within this range there are arguably eighteen year olds all the way up to, let us say, seventy year olds. Now that is a drastic range of different life experiences. There are no seventy year olds that act like twenty year olds, that I personally know at least. The human years are and analogue, meaning that he is not thirty, since we don't know how long ponies live for or how they age; instead it means that he acts similarly to how the average thirty year old would act. He shares the similar life experiences (relationships, responsibilities, trials, and tribulations) to an average human thirty year old. While I understand why there is a need to not say how old the ponies are in the chronological year sense, for the aforementioned reasons, I feel that the age metric still holds true for personality. I will indulge this rule however and rearrange the application as you have suggested, but I just wanted to explain why it was there in the first place.

~Sage

Rivet smiled as she made up her bed for the stallion. With a courteous smile and a shake of her head the typewriter sprung to life, tapping out a message for Martel.

“No, no burden. Stay up all hours, tinker, make sure light stays on, stoke fires. Rarely sleep for more than 2 hours at a clip. Take rest, had long trip. I will start work on brace. Keeps me busy! Breakfast around 08:00, be hungry!” The note floated idly for Martel.

Rivet, although rather shy and not all that much for crowds, honestly enjoyed the company. It made her feel as though she was doing her job, even more so than usual. Most of the time, when she thought about her circumstances, she felt as though she was a very privileged mare. She had a cushy job in a nice location and could pursue her passions to their fullest extent. Sometimes she felt as though her public service job was less public service and more self service. Of course the lighthouse played a very important role in keeping the sea ponies safe, she knew that, but feelings can be capricious things. Having this stallion in her home, asking for her help, and taking refuge there for the time being made her feel that it was all worth it in the end.

As rivet finished making her bed, and folding the clothes that she sometimes left in a heap upon the bed, she remembered that she needed to tell Martel how to contact her if he needed help. ‘Rivet, I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re a savant. You forget the silliest things but can remember the most complicated things.’ With a smile and a hoof held up in a one moment posture she began to type again.

“If you need help, want to talk, have a question, just talk into this horn. It is linked to tubes that transfer noise from all over the property. Lets me listen to the machines while I sleep, incase something happens. Like they blow up again. Works both ways though, just call, and I’ll come up and help.” Rivet pointed to the horn beside the bed, and silently giggled when she surmised that he would be reading the part about the machines exploding. ‘Hopefully the noise won’t keep him up all night, I’m used to it but to someone who hasn’t spent their entire life listening to machines, it might be cacophonous!’ The mare thought as she typed out a final message.

“Any questions? Need anything?” She offered the stallion a smile.

Roleplay Type:

World of Equestria

Name:

Eisenhorn

Sex:

Male

Age:

Middle aged

Species:

Mule

Eye colour:

A striking amethyst; always showing fierce determination.

Coat:

Bay Dun. Gradated black socks to a tarnished tan colour on the majority of the body. A dark line runs down the spine.

Mane/Tail:

As per the Bay Dun colouration, his mane and tail are satin black. He likes to keep his mane short so it tends to stick up similarly to a zebras, however not as drastically. Usually it is not styled into a particular pattern owing to the wind onboard his home.

Physique:

Strong and sturdy from years of physical labor and hard work. He is differently proportioned than the normal pony, however he is similar in stature to a draught pony.

Residence:

His home is on his airship The Aurora. All that he owns is on board and he would think of living nowhere else.

Occupation:

Captain of the civilian freighter and transport vessel the Aurora. His primary means of income is through large quantity shipping orders or government supplies, usually between Aquellian cities and Stalliongrad or Canterlot and other large cities respectively. However he also enjoys making smaller runs for parcel deliveries along with taking passengers for rides where they need to go.

Cutie Mark:

N/A

History:

Eisenhorn was born to a donkey father and a pony mother in the quaint little village of Fet Loch. He spent his formative years working on their farm and helping out around the house. While they didn’t live in the grandeur of some other ponies, he loved the neighborly nature of their village and how everyone was there to lend a helping hoof when needed. Being raised on a farm in such a small village there hadn’t been much excitement to stimulate his imagination. However every night his father would read to him out of old storybooks. He would weave stories about sky pirates and sky marshals, adventure and mystery, exotic lands and even more exotic individuals. Eisenhorn would always imagine himself as the protagonist in these stories, experiencing the wild blue yonder. Of course it saddened him a little that he would never experience the world of the sky as pegasus could, but he didn’t let it get him down. When he told his parents about his fantasies of being an airship captain, they would softly chuckle, as parents do, and tell him that he could be anything that he put his mind to. While they believed that he had the determination to be an airship captain, they didn’t want him to get hurt if he couldn’t live up to his own lofty expectations, and often steered him towards a more agrarian lifestyle, similar to their own. Eisenhorn understood why they did this, and appreciated it in his own way, but he was determined to be an airship captain.

Being the adventurous type, Eisenhorn was always exploring the surrounding woods and forests; sometimes even going where he shouldn't. It was on one of these excursion that Eisenhorn found his first love. One of his colt friends had heard a story about an airship graveyard. A place where companies would park their airships when they were no longer in service and either scavenge them for parts, or just let them rust into shale. Of course there were also ghosts of ponies past and haunted airships in the story, but Eisenhorn didn’t care; he wanted to see the airships. So in the middle of the night, more towards morning, he snuck out of the house to meet up with a group of his friends at the edge of the forest. One of them had pilfered a map from the local rangers post and plotted out the course that they were going to take to find the graveyard. After a rather tiring hike through thick undergrowth, swamps, and even some rather spooky dense forest, the group came upon the edge of the graveyard. They snuck under the fence and began to explore. It was beyond spooky to see these rusted and derelict ships laying about all broken and bent. More than a few times a collective shiver ran up the group’s spine when they thought that they had seen something move out of the corner of their eyes. The group was having a grand old time, scaring each other, and just generally being silly foals. So much so that they had lost track of time and the sun began to rise. Upon realising what time it was the group decided that it would be best to get back home. Unfortunately for Eisenhorn he became turned around and lost in the maze of old ships. Having lost his group he became more than a little worried and began to retrace his steps. Upon doing so he came to an opening that he hadn't noticed before. He looked up and around to see if he could find a place to climb and get his bearings, and then he saw it. Just as the sunlight started to peek around its smoke stacks his eyes fell upon the most beautiful airship in all of Equestria, at least to Eisenhorn it was anyway. The shape, the lean, the bow, the bridge, the smokestacks; He instantly fell in love with this ship. To the objective eye it was just an old airliner that was rusted out and past its prime, but Eisenhorn could see past that. He could see what its potential. Upon finding the hatch and piling more than a few scraps to get to it, he began to explore. The more he saw of this ship the more he knew that one day it would be his. Once he finally reached the bridge, the view was even more impressive. From this vantage point he could clearly see all of the graveyard and a path out. He quickly mentally noted the location of the ship and promised it that he would return. Running all the way home, he informed his very worried parents about his new discovery. From that day forward he would make his way out there to play on “his” ship as often as he could.

Time marched on and in what felt like the blink of an eye Eisenhorn was on the brink of colthood. He felt a little left out with all his friends were getting their cutie marks left and right whereas he would never have one. Despite this he never let it get him down, he was determined to find his place in the world. When he spoke with his parents about his quandary he did understand why they suggested him becoming a farmer like they were, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was destined to do something else. Luckily for him his village school had a very good program where colts and fillies could try out jobs and professions so see if they were to their liking, almost an internship. It was a hard decision for Eisenhorn but he eventually decided to try out the local mail service. He remembered how excited that he always was as a foal when new equipment arrived for the farm, and how much fun it was to unwrap it and be surprised by the contents. It was like getting a birthday present on any day of the year! Needless to say he really enjoyed himself while learning about the parcel service, but the best part came when the mailpony allowed him to deliver a small package to a local foal. Upon delivering the package he felt that same warm rush that he used to feel when he received a package, except this time it was even bigger. He found out that giving was better than receiving that day and it sculpted him for years to come. After a few weeks of working with the parcel service, he went out to “his” airship to have a long hard think. He spent the entire day wandering the halls and holds of that ship, just thinking to himself about his future. Was it the right thing to do? Would he be happy? What would happen to this ship? The night was slowly approaching as he was still pondering these questions and sleep was sneaking up on him. He decided to spend the night on the bridge of the old girl, maybe a good night’s rest would clear his mind and make deciding easier.

In the early throes of morning he awoke with a start but couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was a bad dream, maybe it was a loud creak of the hull settling into the ground, but whatever had awoken him had done so just in time for the sunrise. As he watched Celestia’s sun peak over the bow it finally hit him. He didn’t have to choose between the two! He could run his own delivery service and use this old ship as the cargo hauler! Yet again Eisenhorn was overjoyed and knew what he must do. Over the ensuing months and years he took any jobs that he could get his hooves on, hard and dirty, long and tiring, he didn’t care; so long as there were bits at the end. He delivered packages part time, worked in the fields part time, and did many other things during his later colthood and early stallionhood. All the while his parents helped him along the way, overjoyed at their son’s determination and stubbornness at achieving his goals.

Then came the day that he had waited for ever since he had seen that ship. He hopped on a train to Stalliongrad so that he might purchase her. After a few long and sleepless days of travel he arrived at the Royal Equestrian Airlines Stalliongrad headquarters. After being questioned and chuckled at, as to his reasons for wanting to buy a derelict ship, by a few secretaries he managed to get a meeting with the CEO. The meeting seemed to drag on, he was in that office for hours just talking with the business stallion about what he planned to do with the ship. He was told that a scrap company had offered twice the amount of bits that he was offering. Disheartening as it was, he didn’t let it dissuade him from his goal. Over the next few hours the CEO began to see an unwavering determination in this young stallion, something that reminded the aging business mogul of himself in his younger years. A deal was struck, and Eisenhorn walked out of that office a very happy stallion with an old and decrepit ship and a hefty sum less bits to his name. As he exited the office the CEO called after him asking what he would name her. Eisenhorn simply replied, “Aurora.” The name had struck him as he watched the sun break over the bow of his ship on that fateful day.

Once he got home, Eisenhorn moved all his belongings into the ship, it was his new home now. He kept on working double even triple shifts, getting his name out there to potential clients. He would endlessly talk about how he was fixing the ship up and what he planned to do with it, regardless of the ponies interest. On one of his many delivery runs to Hoofington he met with a rather unusual zebra names Monty that would cement a lifelong friendship. Monty became his go to stallion for refurbished and cheap parts, where as Monty tried to use Eisenhorn for domestic shipping needs as much as he could. Eventually through resourcefulness, the help of many a transient worker, and a few good friends; Eisenhorn was ready to launch The Aurora. All the systems checked out, the envelopes were half charged, the engine was idling as best it could and the lever was thrown. The hulking mass shuttered, creaked, moaned, and put up and awful din but it was airborne. This was the happiest day of Eisenhorn’s life. He was an airship captain and a delivery stallion, his two favourite things in the world. All through his determination and force of will he managed to snag a piece of the pie.

From that day forward his network of friends and business associates expanded exponentially. He was known as one of the most reliable delivery stallions out there. While it might take a while for your package to arrive, it was well worth the wait. Eventually he started taking on Imperial contracts for hauling bureaucratic supplies and raw building materials. While it is an ongoing battle to keep the old ship in the sky, most of the time requiring more bits than are available to Eisenhorn, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He loves the expression on the little colts’ and fillies’ faces when his ship arrives in town and he delivers their long awaited packages. He loves feeling the breeze in his mane and watching the rolling landscape below. He loves soaring through the clouds and feeling the condensation on his skin. The exotic ports, the new individuals, the fun places he has gone and people that he has met; he wouldn’t give any of it up.

Character Summary:

Eisenhorn is a very easy to get along with mule, who loves to travel and make new friends. His determination and headstrong nature allowed for him to achieve his lofty goals that he set for himself. Not only did he manage to resurrect a derelict airship from the scrap heap, but he also owns and operates said airship allowing him to make a business out of his second passion, delivering packages. Eisenhorn loves the freedom that he feels when standing on the deck of his airship, and the smiles that he brings to ponies near and far whenever it swings into town. The running of an airship is a very time consuming business, especially one as old as his, so he occasionally hires local ponies who are looking for a way to make some extra bits. While they are usually not long term jobs, mostly a singular trip, he manages to form lifelong friendships with these ponies. Amiable and easy to get along with, albeit hard to understand on occasion, Eisenhorn hasn’t met anypony yet that he hasn’t liked. With his cheery fiddle playing and often incomprehensible but none the less affable manner of speech, he is one of the most fun engaging mules that you will ever meet.

While his determination and headstrong nature has served him well in the past, sometimes it can put him in situations that can be difficult to find his way out of. Once he takes on a contract or job, no matter how large, he feels more than obligated to finish it despite the hardships, sometimes at the cost of considerable time and bits. While Eisenhorn may be a resourceful individual, he isn’t the brightest when it comes to technical thinking, nor would he be considered extremely book smart. He makes up for this by being a little more street smart, however again, he isn’t the smartest in that field either. He was born and raised on a farm in a rather small village, this has left an indelible mark upon his personality and being.

Owing to his heritage Eisenhorn is very even tempered, tolerant, courageous, and strong. He claims that he only received the good traits from his mother (Pony) and father (Donkey). Eisenhorn is incredibly sure footed, he can walk places where normal ponies wouldn’t dare tread. This is especially helpful when making midair repairs to the superstructure of his airship. Despite his outward appearance, namely due to the rather long ears, he is very cunning and resourceful. He may not be the sharpest tack when it comes to engineering or mechanical know how, but he is resourceful; especially when it comes to keeping his ship in the air.

Due to growing up and spending most of his formative years in Fet Loch, he has a rather interesting accent. While he does speak the imperial tongue, it sounds very different from your everyday pony. Some ponies would call it almost unintelligible, others it just takes a little while to figure out what he is saying. When he gets adamant about something, or excited, the effect is multiplied.

Through his travels he has picked up many talents, one of which is his ability to play the fiddle. While he is not the most skilled fiddle player, he does enjoy it. He knows more than a few classic roving tunes from his home village of Fet Loch, but he is always interested in learning more. Playing the fiddle helps pass the time on some of the longer trips and helps to take his mind off of things. His voice may not be the most pure or clear, owing mainly to his accent, it has an interesting melodic quality. For the songs that he tends to sing and play, his voice fits perfectly. however if he were to sing more proper or classical songs, it would sound wholly out of place. His fiddle is rather a rather old classic Fet Loch pattern with beautiful craftstallionship. While often out of tune, there is a certain je ne sais quoi about the sound that it produces, almost always bringing a smile to anypony who is in earshot.

He is the sole owner and operator of the airship the Aurora. Even though she is rust covered and probably a little unsafe at times, Eisenhorn loves her all the same. The Aurora is a reclaimed Stalliongrad luxury liner. In her heyday she was one of the largest and most comfortable. However as the relentless march of time wore on she was replaced by newer, faster, and more elegant models. So as it goes, she was placed in the airship graveyard to rust into shale. After numerous long years of neglect and erosion by the elements, Eisenhorn found her and fell in love. After a good long while he purchased the old girl and began to fix her up. This was a lengthy process however with a little help he did manage to get her up and airborne again. Of course modifications had to be made for her new job. While the upper decks are still passenger, “Friendly”, the lower decks have been converted into a rather large cargo hold. As it stands, she is one of, if not the largest cargo ships in operation. That being said, there are rather lucrative contracts to be had with the governments of the land, transporting either large quantities of raw material, provisions, supplies, or even other smaller airships. The envelope is another oddity. Rather than a singular envelope, as the ship was designed, Eisenhorn opted to retrofit the Aurora with dual rigid envelopes of Aether Reactive gas. When at maximum capacity just one of these envelopes would be sufficient to lift the ship and cargo, however getting the bits to run them at full capacity can be a hard task. Also the redundancy offers greater stability when cruising, and a drastically increased lift capacity; meaning bigger loads which in turn bring in more money. As previously stated, there are still some passenger decks, along with a self serve galley, observation decks, and sparsely furnished rooms. What needs to be taken into consideration is that this is not a luxury liner any more. The majority of the interior is still rusted, the decking is usually bare with throw rugs here and there, the furnishings are few and far between, all in all it isn’t the moving five star hotel that it used to be. Now it is a working cargo ship that can take passengers if it needs to.

The Aurora by far is not the most agile of airships. She needs a few tug pegasus to get into dock in most stations. Nor is she the fastest cargo ship out there. She uses large deployable starboard and port sails for most of her cruising, with smaller static fore and aft sails for maneuvering. There is also a canopy sail strung between the two envelopes. This can be used to either shelter the main deck from the elements, or as an extra sail when a little more speed is required. However when the winds are not in her favour, there is a very large and slow engine that moves a larger still propeller at the aft end of the ship. Water maneuvers are another story entirely. When on the rare occasion that she does splash down, she is not very efficient. Her design was crafted for predominantly airborne use. When in the water she is slower and less agile than most sailing ships and tends to list to the port side. In strong winds, the airframe creaks and moans, when splashing down every rivet protests the strain, when going above half throttle the engine starts to knock and belch smoke; despite all this Eisenhorn loves her more than anything. The Aurora is his home and he would never think of living anywhere else in Equestria.

For those of you interested in the technical specification of the ship, they are as follows.

Name: HMS Splendor of Equestria when in service, The Aurora presently

Tonnage: ~55,000 Gross Tonnes

Displacement: 45,300 tonnes at design, 50,435 tonnes at max (dependent upon envelope charge)

Length: 300m overall, 290m at waterline

Beam: 31m

Draft: 9.5m

Depth: 75m

Decks: 12 at conception, 4 passenger 1 engineering 7 cargo decks as of present

Speed: 54 knots (air) 32 knots (water) when in service, 10 knots (air) 5 knots (water) presently

Capacity: 1,800 at design, 40 presently

The specs and design are based upon the SS United States. Looks, rust, useage, general disrepair, and general feel of the ship are likened to the SS United States.

‘Ah, a chink in the armour. This is exactly what I wanted.’ The imposing mare thought to herself without a trace of her satisfaction ever reaching her face. Instead she lowered her wings and put on a beautifully welcoming and warm smile, not something that anypony was oft to see on her. From this point forward she locked eyes with Figment, she was speaking to him and not to anypony else. The stare was not one of contempt or hatred, but of caring and compassion.

“I think he does mean you, little one. How could be he so selfish. I thought that what any changeling wanted was the good of the hive. I am sure that the hive, and the Queen, would miss a spy and a bureaucrat.” Veracity spoke in a modulated tone, conveying understanding and empathy. “He thinks he is above you, little one. Better than you. How dare he put himself before the good of the hive.” --Tisk tisk tisk-- Her tongue clicked as she shook her head.

Veracity was hoping against hope that this wouldn’t come to blows. She was not one to show her kind or caring side, ever. Being a battle hardened military mare, this was a rarity for her. However, tactics were tactics and this seemed like the best one at the time being.

“You’re right, you're nothing like him. You have friends, you have helped ponies. You even do the right thing when he throws you under the carriage and uses you as a footstool. How admirable, how honourable.” She smiled again between her sentences, she was trying her hardest to win this little changeling over.

“The thing of it is, he won’t remember your honourable actions at this juncture. That disloyal changeling doesn’t care about the good of the hive. You said it yourself, members of the hive protect each other and the hive as a whole. By threatening the ponies of Stalliongrad and the Celestial Empire as a whole, he is threatening your hive! He did just say that the annihilation of your entire race would follow if an all out war were to take place.” Veracity was adept at this sort of subterfuge, twisting people’s words to suit her needs. The key was to use exactly what they said, but change the meaning by applying it to different circumstances.

“Would you allow one changeling to endanger the lives of countless others? By his hostile and blatantly self serving actions, he would doom your entire race. Even the grubs. You said that you don’t hold malice towards anyone, unless they threaten the hive. I do not threaten your hive, little one. I want to bring you back to your hive, to your Queen. This changeling however seems to threaten your hive, if you remember what he said before. He threatens the order, the livelihood, and most of all the honour and loyalty of every changeling that is linked to that hive.” Veracity knew that this changeling must be getting tired of speeches, but she had a point to make. Hopefully he would listen and understand what she was trying to do.

“Now, little one, you know that ponies don’t often hate or fear others. We try our hardest to accept them and help them along their paths in life. I believe you witnessed an example of that in your journeys, no? That charcoal factory working earth pony. He took you in when you looked cold. He gave you his scarf. He probably even shared his small dinner with you. That is what being a pony is all about. Caring for others as you would care for your own. It matters not what race or conviction, what matters is what you are on the inside. It’s not because of me that you won’t see him again. I promised that I would help you along your path through the judicial system. It’s the other changeling that seems to want this to end badly.” Veracity’s mind was racing to think of how to impress upon this tired looking changeling that she meant him no harm and that cooperation would be the best way for everyone.

“If you remember my previous offer it still stands. I will help you, and I promise on my pinion feathers that you won’t be harmed in any way. If I remember correctly from my readings of the law. There might even be a way for you to petition for political asylum in our Empire. Of course you would have to prove that you meant us no harm, but I don’t think that you honestly mean to harm anypony. I see that deep down you are good. And, for all my bluster I honestly don’t want to hurt you. It’s not something that I would enjoy. All ponies have a special talent, I bet you know this. Well mine is my drive to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I am the shield of the downtrodden and the sword of the weak. Not to be mean, but you seem more than a little downtrodden at the moment, and I couldn’t help but notice that the other one took most of your energy from you not too long ago.” Veracity did mean every word that she had just said; she wasn’t one to hurt anypony needlessly. After all, she hadn’t lied about her special talent.

“I reiterate. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you out here. Just because you are different from me doesn’t mean that I preclude you from my oath to protect all life. If you wouldn’t mind, I would greatly appreciate it if you came with me so that I could help you along with your journey through our land …” Veracity wore a puzzled expression upon her face for a moment. “... You know what. I never caught your name. I’m Captain Veracity of the VSS. And I am pleased to meet one of your kind. I am truly sorry about the conditions of our meeting however.” Veracity stuck her hoof out in a very non threatening manner indicative of a hoof shake. Her wings were presented forwards and low to the ground in a welcoming, almost hug like posture, and she wore a concerned and yet understanding smile upon her muzzle. She truly hoped that this worked out.

Rivet winced when Martel flinched as she approached his shoulder, but she gave a reassuring smile when he explained his actions. ‘Poor stallion. I wonder why no one wants to be his friend. He seems nice enough to me!’ She thought as she went over the schematics one last time in her head. Martel seemed surprised to say the least when she told him the timeframe on the two braces. ‘Well I aim to please! I’m just glad that the timeframe is acceptable to him. I was worried that it would be too slow.’ Rivet mused to herself as she smiled at Martel. His next question made her chuckle.

”Can it be painted Purple?”

“Of course, I’ll let you pick shade of purple on one condition. Golden filigree around edges. Look smashing while smashing!!” The typewriter chimed in as Rivet first smiled and then chuckled at her own horrible pun.

‘He is going to need somewhere to stay for the duration of the work, Rivet. Be a good host and offer him your bed to sleep in for as long as she needs. He is paying you for this job, it’s the least you can do.’ Rivet mentally scolded herself remembering her etiquette.

“You stay here for duration of work? Might help, need measurements and weights. Sleep in my bed, very comfy I assure you. Will hold your weight, very strong.” the typewriter offered as Rivet put on her most sincere smile. What the mare needed to learn was phrasing of sentences, hopefully Martel would understand what she meant without much trouble.

Veracity took the time, as the two changelings were trying to intimidate her further, to edge around them so that they would be truly in the corner that she had backed them into previously. ‘These two are exceptionally dense, either that or stupidly brave. I can’t decide which.’ The seasoned veteran thought to herself as the paper pushing changeling started up his threats again. He was trying to twist her words around; trying to make her feel like the badpony here. Unfortunately for him Veracity knew that she had the law and justice on her side. Her moral compass always pointed North, when it came to the good of Ponykind. From the reports that she had managed to read about the Canterlot incident, these parasites had not only assaulted the Her Majesty Celestia, but they had full out invaded Canterlot with the sole purpose of conquering all of Equestria. After that incident, the changeling race had been banished from the Celestial Kingdom. For all intents and purposes these two changelings were not only trespassers but enemies of the Empire. It was Veracity’s duty to apprehend them at all costs.

‘I offer them a ticket out of here, a free ride back to their hive. And they refuse it. They baulk at my offer of compassion and understanding. Well then, that seems to answer my question, they are just dense.’ The mare thought as she rolled her eyes. ‘Capturing them alive is the best option, they are of more value that way, so I may have to forego the sword this evening in favor of my hooves.’

In this encounter, the mare had the upper hoof. Not only had she backed them into a corner, but she had decades of combat training, conditioning, and even real combat on her side. These two seemed young and inexperienced when it came to the ways of conflict. Veracity had most of the fight already planned out in her head before she began to speak.

“The hard way it is.” Veracity mumbled before she began to roar. “I’ve had ENOUGH you insolent little parasites! I offer you a get out of jail free card. I offer you understanding and compassion and you rebuke it. Not a wise move you insignificant little specs. ‘Fight for our survival...’ Now that’s cute. While you fight for your selfish needs, I fight for the entirety of Ponykind. I fight for Stalliongrad, for all the ponies that your kind would oppress given the chance, I fight for all of Equestria and the Celestial Empire. Most importantly, I fight for Her Majesty.”

The mare seemed to be gaining steam in her speech again, an almost sickening glint could be seen in her eye. She knew what was coming, this was the fun part. She flared her wings again, to their full extent, as her voice continued to rise in volume and fervor.

“Your ‘strength’ is but an accident, owed only to the weakness of others! I tread the path of Righteousness! Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barehooved; though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them; though it wanders wide, the light of the Empress guides my step! You and your kind shun the Empress’ loving light, and in time you hate that which you often fear. Her light is merciful and kind; warm and welcoming. That light is not for you, not for your kind. You are insects that scatter in the starkness of Her luminosity! Her compassion and mercy you shall not feel, nor mine; for nothing emboldens treachery so much as mercy.”

By the end of her monologue, her voice had reached a fervor unmatched by any orator. She believed in her cause with every fiber of her being. She understood what was expected of her, she was willing to give everything that she had to live up to the standard that she set for herself, to live up to her life's purposes. She would die if she had to to protect those that could not protect themselves. At this point she had gone quiet. A smile slinked across her muzzle as all that could be heard was the breathing of the three in that room. She narrowed her eyes and shifted her weight, posing herself for the attack. She took a breath, all emotion and fervor now lost to the calm of the moment.

“The ending is nearer than you think, and it is already written. All that we have left to choose is the correct moment to begin.” The mare’s words hung in the air as they escaped her lips. The sickening glint in her eye bored straight into the bureaucrat's soul.

As the stallion spoke Rivet’s imagination began to swirl and whirl. He wanted something strong to balance his weight and provide for combat, and also he wanted a lighter more everyday brace. A very vibrant gleam could be seen in the mare’s eyes and an inquisitive look upon her face. She began to sketch, sketch anything and everything that came to her mind, no matter how implausible. This is how Rivet’s mind worked, she let her creativity flow out onto the page, no matter how obscure and unlikely the designs were. What this helped her do was to visualize different mechanisms and ways of connecting pieces from different designs. Unless somepony was exceedingly brilliant, they almost never came up with the correct design on the first go.

The mare had learned this lesson the hard way. Her mind began to wander as her pen kept scribbling out designs upon the paper, her look now vacant. She remembered back to the last chance visitors that she had in her home. How everything was going fine until suddenly her outbuilding that she used as an entrance to the boiler room exploded and ripped part of the lighthouse proper up. At the time she did not know why the explosion had happened, but through further investigation during the very long rebuilding process, she found that a spoon had jammed her brine intake mechanism. This would not have been a major problem if it was not for the fact that she had modified the safety check valves so that she could run her Mk. 1 Halo Engine off of the main boiler system. This being done, the MK. 1 had ripped itself apart when the pressure exceeded the safety margin and wreaked havoc in her basement. That was a serious design flaw, she didn’t want her engines to fly apart when they were pressed hard, that would have been very bad for business.

She found herself looking directly into Martel’s eyes with a dull expression on her face when her mind came back to her current reality. Her pen was now scratching would be designs on her floorboards. Rivet blushed behind her tiny square glasses and darted her vision down to her sketchpad with an embarrassed look.

‘You shouldn’t let your mind wander like that, especially when there is company.’ She mentally scolded herself with a look of self disappointment.

She looked over her sketches so far. Three pages had been filled up with designs from the simple to the extraordinary, one was even a mechanized steam driven metal frame that Martel would sit in and be armoured on all sides from attack, while four hammers similar to the one that he owned would flail about to ward off any would be attackers. Sometimes Rivet had an overactive imagination.

With a smile she levitated the sketchpad over to Martel, in hopes that he would like some of her designs and maybe find some of them humorous. The little mare walked over next to the arm of the couch where the stallion’s head was, reading over his shoulder as it were, and pointed out some of the designs and how they would attach to him. She liked two in particular. One was a very simple design, a J shaped flat piece of a new alloy that Coal Brightfire had given her a sample of with a comfortable sucket for his missing leg, and a rubberized grip. The prosthesis attached posterior to the socket, and would be very flexible and springy, yet rigid enough for him to use it every day and have it support his weight. There was a down side however, it was not articulated. Meaning that he would have to learn a new walking motion for his new prosthesis. As she pointed to it she typed out,

“Simple design, light, fast, agile, strong. Everyday use. Rubberized sole stops slipping, weighted similarly to your missing leg. Balances your out. Bad part, no articulation, need to learn new walking motion. Like peg leg. Good part: Have new alloy in house, sample from Coal Brightfire, gift for being good customer. Can bend into shape, machine socket, assemble, in maybe 12 hours?” The note read out.

‘Oh I hope that is quick enough for him. I don’t think I could make one that’s still of good quality any faster than that. Plus the combat model will take much longer to assemble.’ The mare thought to herself.

Rivet then quickly moved on to her next idea, glossing over some of the more outlandish ones. She settled on a design that was rugged yet reliable, and exceedingly strong to boot. Without a trained eye, the design might have looked like a pile of gobbledygook, but to rivet it made perfect sense. This prosthesis was designed for one purpose, to be almost indestructible. There was an outer shell, made to look similar to a pony’s leg, made of high carbon steel that covered all the internal workings. There were two points of lateral articulation, and a single point of rotational articulation. Of course there were also embellishments of Rivet’s own imagination in the design. She pointed to it and leaned a little closer to the stallions shoulders as she typed up her next message.

“Combat model, high carbon steel outer layer. Two lateral articulation points, femur and tibia, and tibia and cannon bone. Rotational articulation around middle and distal phalanx joint. Locking articulation mechanism, works almost identically to real leg. Internal mechanism, clockwork, springs, assist with motion and walking. Leg very heavy, heavier than other legs. Shoe textured with knurling for grip on all surfaces. High impact, full range of motion, different speeds. Not good for full out sprint, use other one for that. Special part. When articulation locks, hoof stomp activates stabilizer spikes. Two inch long steel points, drive into ground to lock hoof in place. Can then rotate around in full circles on rear hoof. Good for hammer, protecting flank.” The note was long but hopefully Martel could understand all that she was saying. She pointed to each structure in turn and drew small articulation diagrams for him as well.

“Bad news, lots of parts needed, measurements needed, complicated crafting, long assembly and tuning time. Take 2 weeks total? Probably. Need to order core skeletal alloy from Coal, crafting and shipping takes time. Sorry, best I can do. Hope you like.” The second note read as Rivet turned to the now close at hoof Martel with an apologetic smile and her ears out to the side as though she had done something wrong.

‘Oh I hope he likes the designs. I hope they fit his needs!’ She anxiously thought as she awaited his replies.

That is called the Irresistible Force Paradox. It is currently used as an expression to describe two equal but opposite elements clashing with one another. Such as, "Well, the Chicago defense and the Green Bay offense is like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object..."

However if we are to go on with this as a thought experiment ... Let me get my calculator. Hrmmm, let's take and divide that by zero OH SHI-

Ĩ̢̨̱̖͖̙̲̭͍͎̠̺̼̥̩͚̩ͨ̀ͨͥ̀ͫ̓̀̾̀ ̨̢̗̝̟̮̜̩̮̤̘̞̻̜̯͊̔͊̄ͥͪͭ̅͆̀͠ͅt̢̛͈̝̹̰̓͆̃̂͊̍́͠h͖̥̻̼ͭ͗̂ͪ͑ͭ̈́͐ͬͮ̀͢͜i̶̶̠̙̱̤̪͙͖̰̬̟͎ͦ̍ͣ́ͦͦͦͮ͒̅̄ͦ̑͆̎̐ͬ͊̚͢͠ͅn̈͆́͊̐̾̈͌ͭ̎̈̍͜҉̨̱͓̼̫̮̠̠͡ͅͅǩ̴̻͚̺̻̳̗̻͓͕͇̦̠̣̦̱̻̅͗ͭ̆̊́̇̆͂͒̾͆̄̉͜͝ ̧̧͖͉̩̱̺ͥͫͣ̎́͡͞t̷̗̪̥̦͍̞ͫ̔͆̒̄̀̆̍̉̌̓ͧ́̕͡h̵̭̱̭͇̬̝͉̯̣̩̫̗̗͚̉̆͆͛̉̉̓ͯ͞a̵̢̡̮̣̭̺̝̰̯̘̣̫͆̑̈́ͣ͗ͨ̑ͯ̀̌͊ͮͅtͥͩ̓ͣ͆̓ͤ͑̍͌ͥ͟҉̸̗̠̬̫̹̻̣ ͊̾̎͑̀̂̓ͣͦ̋̿̚͠҉̨̢̦̘̼̭̗͢Ĭ̧̨̝̖̠̗͈̣̟̗͙͖̩̻̭̪̪͛̅̾ͩͮͫ̅̔ͫ̊̃̋͑̿̚ͅ ͧ̿̏̊̆̏ͨ̎͋̄̍͌̿͏̦͕̘͔̰̯͕͕̜̕b̶̵̢͙̖̻̤̥̺͔̗͆̊ͪ́͐ͪ́ͨ̏̅͘ŗ̬̳̱̳̜͉̘̳̦͉͓͍ͥ̆̅ͨ̎ͪͪ́̚͘̕ͅö̢̢͎̪̼̘̼͕̪̼̮̫͎̃̊͗ͤ̈͟k̡̠̻͓̟̙̻̣͖̮͎̜̝̻̙̣̯̹ͩ̽̑̔ͭ̏ͭ͐ͣ̄̽̒̈̇̒͆̿͢͟͢e̢̢̘͚̟̩̤̣̲͖̩̰̺̘͔͙̞̭̮͎͂̊ͨ̽ͭ̅́͟͢͜ ͙̞̹͇̗̐ͩͪͭͯͩ͌͢t̹͍̖̞̗͓̙̲̪ͬ̀̽ͤ͛̔ͬ̊̒ͬͭͥ̎̊͟͢h̨ͪ̔̏͊̓̀̽̄͗̍ͪ̐ͪ́͘҉͈̦͙͚̝͚e̩̞̙͔͑ͦ͆̿ͫ̆͐̇́̊ͮ̎̈́͢͟͞͝ ̵̓̊͆ͮͩ̀͡͏̱̳̠͎͉͕͕̱̳̥̺̼̖̝ủ̴̶̦͇͈̦͐ͭ͑ͬ͆́̏́͌̋͟͢͠n̷̵̡̮̪̣͓͍͔͎͈̲͍̫͖͉̫͍̯̗̐̄̄͂ͫ̀ͣ̍͆̋̎̑́̿̚̚͘i̴̴͈̞͉̜̾̔́̎̾̄ͥͮ̉̂ͪͤ̈͜͢v̸̡̩͚͎̦͉ͨ͂̒͆̂͡͡e̸̢͖͔͔͔ͣ̇̐̂̔̓ͧ͗̇ͯ͒̆̇ͧͨ̌̕ŗ̵̺͖̜̜̙̰́ͭͥ̃̔́ͪ̀͜͝s̶̢͖̯͔̗͈̫̣̞̪͙ͤͫ̑͌ͦͭ͛̓͌͡͠ͅͅe͖̗̱̝ͤ̀̏͌̑͗́́͢ͅ ̨̡̨͂̅̃̆̊̐ͤ̃͋ͥͯ̽̅̓͘͏̖̰̗̝͙͉̣̮.̷̛̮̥̻̬̖̩̝͎̫̰͇̯̜͕̜͋ͬ̿͂̆͗͜.̶̧̧̨͙͎͔̟͎̼̭̭̰ͭ̑̀̓̏̃ͧ͒́ͫ̍̐̎͑ͮ́ͬ͟.̲̰̘̠̞̳̤̠̙̌̏̾̍̎̆̐̔ͪ̋̊̎̐́̀̆̕͜ͅ

~Sage

‘So the annoying one is the superior and the rather pathetic looking one is the underling. I honestly don’t think that two changelings could do any amount of damage in stalliongrad, but better safe than sorry.’ The mare thought to herself as she stood as stationary as a statue and not batting an eye at the argument between the two. The closer changeling, the one who was considerably less shrill, had a sudden shift in emotion. His countenance became softer and more earnest in its appearance.

"Please just let us leave...we were only here because there's no other place for us to be, well...us. We're just trying to survive, y'know... A month in jail would kill us! I don't think we'd get much love cleaning up trash or whatever either... I'm sorry, okay? Can't you let let us off with a warning? We'll find someplace else..."

‘Well, I ...’ Veracity’s mind raced. Sometimes the mare got caught up in the moment so much so that she lost sight of the bigger picture. ‘... The only place that they can be themselves … How is that fair? Isn’t one of the core Celestial Tenants; Love and Compassion?’ Veracity wore a strange look upon her face as she pondered the implications.

‘They attacked Canterlot, and were planning on subjugating ponykind so that they could feed off of us. They tend to kidnap ponies and assume their place and harvest our love and compassion. But, why then could we not live in harmony? If we as a race of Ponies, truly believe in tolerance and friendship, why do they have to subjugate us?Why can they not live along side of us, and gain their sustenance that way? Would that be wrong? Do they need more than the average pony can give? I … I am at a loss ...’ For the first time in many many years, the military mare was stumped. This little sick looking, for lack of a better word, leech just confounded her.

However this brief moment of quiet contemplation was immediately interrupted by the grating voice of the hovering changeling. His idle threats were slowly getting on the mare’s last nerve, his voice didn’t help either. Her eyes locked onto his, almost boring a hole straight through his skull. Her head followed his every bob and movement just as an owl watches a mouse. ‘If they attack, I don’t have to worry about the drained one. Minimal threat at best. Main objective, Superior officer. Information, valuable. Bartering chip, valuable. Assessment, capture at all costs.’ She thought as her mind fell back into her training days. What was about to follow would be the most biting and terrifying speech that she could muster.

“Shut your mouth, you annoying proletariat. If my wilderness training serves me well, the queen bee doesn’t sacrifice her entire hive to rescue two …” At this point she took a step forward with a resounding noise on the floorboards.

“Insignificant ..” She took another step forward as her voice began to seethe.

“Powerless …” She was slowly approaching, throwing her presence at the two trespassers.

“ … Little worker bees like yourselves …” She was only a few feet from the two now. She spoke with such presence and power that one would think that she filled the entire room and mountains would quake for fear of her wrath.

“... After all, that’s all you are. Little worker bees. Expendable. Simply cogs in the machine of the hive. Replaceable. Why would she care if you two were locked away and left to rot in the gulags? There are always more.” At this point the two of them could most likely feel her hot breath on their faces as she slowly crept closer, her monologue continuing.

“How insecure you must feel. Knowing that your life, your being, can be thrown away like a half eaten apple. Discarded and forgotten. And who would blame her? No one. After all, she is the almighty and powerful Hive Queen Chrysalis. Who are YOU to question her decisions? Two little worker drones? Pfah!” Veracity was taking a small amount of pleasure in verbally demeaning these two. Especially the one with the cheesegrater lodged where his voice box should be. She wanted to beat these two down, not physically but mentally. She wanted them to question their beliefs, their core being.

“Even if your Queen Chrysalis noticed that you were gone, and IF she sent the entire hive after. Two. Little. Worker drones. What would that amount to? This is Stalliongrad! The Jewel of the North! We etched this city out of the cold and foreboding white. We have stood since before the Celestial Sisters rose to power, and we will stand long afterwards. We are the bastion of hope in the North. We exemplify the pony spirit. With iron and steel we created all that you see before you. With sweat and blood we made buildings that scrape the very heavens above.” Veracity was letting her heavy Stallion accent slip into her speech to give it more impact.

“And you, with your little enclave of parasites think that you can even stand against the might and determination of the Vooruzhennye sily Stalliongrad?! We have airships! We have ponies and griffins, and all other myriad of species willing to fight and die to protect Stalliongrad from the likes of you! Most of all, we have the determination to win, no matter the cost.” Veracity’s voice had raised during the last speech, she was now sounding like a professional orator inciting the troops to war.

“I’ve had enough of you pathetic prattle. I have half a mind to cut you down where you stand, and bring you back to your beloved hive, strapped to the bow of my ship. Be glad that, that, isn’t the pony way. Be glad that I swore an oath to protect life, no matter it’s form. To protect the small and meek from the trodding heels of oppression. That oath even extends to the likes of you.” The mare spoke with power, but less so than before. She was presenting an almost accepting and understanding side now.

“Stand down. If you stand down and come with me I will make sure that no harm befalls you. You won’t be deprived of sustenance nor will you be mistreated. You will be convicted as trespassers; you will be questioned and interrogated; you will answer these questions to the best of your ability; then you will be deported back to your hive aboard my ship. You have my word as a Captain, and you have my word as a pony, that you will not be harmed.” Veracity was harsh but earnest in this statement. She would do all that was within her considerable powers to make sure these two interlopers were returned from whence they came.

“From the Captain of the ‘Moral Constraints’ [ROV] of the VSS. Please. Stand. Down. I don’t want to have to do this the hard way.” Her powerful voice had become a hint softer and more welcoming at this point. However there was still strength in her words, a power of will that could not be denied. A feeling that if this mare were to be fighting for you, you would have a powerful ally. But if she was fighting against you? Heaven and Equestria would hold no place where you could hide.At this point if her tactful maneuvering had gone to plan, the mare had distracted both of the changelings from the fact that she was backing them into a corner. She stood in front of the two, wings held wide. Not in a threatening manner as before, but a welcoming manner. As if to welcome them onto her ship and accept them for who they were.

Rivet shook her head with a slight smile after the laughing fit. She understood the feeling of not wanting to buy something that you could make. Rivet always tried her hardest to be self sufficient and build anything that she needed rather than spending bits to buy it. 'A list of the best and brightest engineers and tinkerers in Equestria and he picked me a Genius? How in Celestia's name did I get on a list like that?' Rivet thought to herself as a puzzled look came across her muzzle. The little mare never thought much of herself or her inventions. She knew that she was competent but she just never thought that she would be on a list of the best and the brightest. Being that she was so young in comparison to other tinkerers and engineers she always felt that there was somepony better than her somewhere out there.

Rivet listened to the stallion recount how that his family had been, 'sold out' before by other more well known tinkerers and blacksmiths. 'Apparently his family is well known, or infamous even. I hope that other unscrupulous ponies don't start showing up, or I get a bad reputation for working with this stallion. Although that might be interesting. Me, a Badflank, now that’s funny' She thought as her mind began to wander on the idea of her being an outlaw vigilante that solves the world’s problems with a swift kick in the flank and her gadgets.

As Martel was lost in thought he absent mindedly pulled his massive hammer closer to himself. Rivet cowered slightly, her ears going out to the sides. Despite this when the stallion spoke of the precautions that he had taken she felt slightly relieved, although still a little apprehensive.

'Well, if he says that he went through all these precautions just to insure my safety, I'm sure that I will not be bothered by other bad ponies. And when he is missing a rear leg, I’m fairly sure that I can out maneuver him if he tries any funny business. I would never turn a pony in need out! Boy, the ponies where he comes from must be rather cold to turn another out in such a condition.’ Her typewriter sprang to life and shortly afterward a small slip of paper floated in front of Martel.

“Don't worry, won't turn out. You seem nice, I trust you. I can make brace for you, much better. Tell me what you want. Strong and slow, light and fast, in between? Springy, solid, armoured, clockwork? I can make more than one for you. It all depends on what needed. Pleasure to help ponies in need.” Rivet put on an earnest smile. She really did like helping other ponies, especially if they were in need. It was just that no one really ever visited her. She might not have liked crowds and she may have taken a while to warm up to other ponies but she did enjoy the company. It got a little lonely at times all alone in that big lighthouse.

She held up a hoof in a ‘One moment please,’ manner and trotted quickly off to the other side of the room. Rustling could be heard before she returned with a sketch pad and a set of mechanical pencils. She awaited Martel’s description of how he wanted his brace to turn out.

'Looks like they want to do this that hard way.' Veracity thought to herself as the somewhat droopy looking changeling jumped in front of the cowering one. She assessed the situation. Neither of these changelings seemed to pose a large threat. The changeling that was directly in front of her seemed to be rather drained and droopy from the feeding that had just occurred. Although he was much more fit than the one that is behind him. The cowering changeling had the physique of a desk chair jockey, and apparently the spine to boot.

'The one in the back is probably some sort of bureaucrat checking up on how the other is doing, I mean look at that flank. I guess someponies need more cushioning when they sit on a hard chair every day. The one in the front though, he seems to be more competent, I would guess he is an infiltrator sort. Sent to suss out our defenses and procedures. He might be a little bit of trouble, those types always like to run.' Veracity thought to herself as the droopy changeling began to yell at her.

"You're outnumbered..! Leave and forget you saw anything, and you won't get hurt." He shouted at her.

'HA, now that is funny!' The military mare thought to herself as she let out a small chuckle. 'I've had more intimidating bowls of porridge from the mess hall. The one in the front even looks as though he as the flu. That energy draining must take a lot out of somepony.' Her train of thought continued.

The cowering changeling seemed to be invigorated by the display from the one that was protecting him and popped his head up to say something to her as well.

“How DARE you threaten us, fleabag! We have the right to go anywhere we please in this horrid country of yours. If you imprison the two of us, then rest assured you, and your loved ones, will suffer the consequences.....”

'Threatening an officer of the V.S.S. Tisk tisk.' She thought with a smile.

Veracity lowered her wings and slid her rapier back into its scabbard, these changelings didn't seem like too much of a threat to the very well trained mare. After all, she had gone up against numerous sky pirates before and they were much more competent than these louts. She puffed up her chest, making sure that they could see not only her rank insignia, but also the commendations and medals that she had won over he long career. She then began to speak, “I don't care who you THINK that you are. You are trespassing on VSS property. An offense punishable by either a month in the brig, or four-hundred hours community service. Threatening a duly appointed Officer of the VSS on the other hoof, that's a different story. If you stand down and come with me I will let your moment of, let's call it indiscretion, go. However if you resist, I will be sure that the judge throws the book at you.” She spoke with the authority that only comes with years of practice and service; her icy blue eyes boring into the bureaucrat's own sickly green eyes. Her nerves tingled, ready to move in an instant if these two decided to either bolt or pick a fight with her.

Rivet smiled at the content looking stallion as he relaxed on her sofa. She even saw his musculature seem to relax as he sunk into the high back and arms of the couch whilst sipping his tea. The grimy mare inhaled a deep waft of the sassafras steam and held it in her chest for a bit before letting it curl out through her nose. She liked the tingling feeling of the warm moist air depositing small droplets of water all throughout her nose.. She finally took a sip of the very hot water and enjoyed the flavour even more so than the vapor.

The purple stallion let out a resounding laugh from within, after he had made a joke about how hospitable Rivet was being. For some reason, the joke just struck the mare as hilarious and she couldn’t help herself. She began to laugh. Although being mute, no noise was ever uttered, which must have made the whole ordeal look rather awkward for the stallion and most likely sounded like she was wheezing and choking on something. The stallion’s laugh filled and reverberated through her abode; it was contagious. She couldn’t help herself, she was having a giggle fit. This rarely happened to the mare, usually only when something especially funny in an engeneering manual caught her attention.

‘Those things are packed with hilarity, if you know where to look.’ managed to think while she was giggling up a storm.

Then it happened, the most embarrassing moment of any laugh, the snort. Rivet snorted as she laughed, causing her to laugh and giggle more at how awkward she must have looked and what the stallion was thinking.

Finally she managed to calm herself down without too many relapses into giggle fits. The stallion then asked her if she had any questions.

‘Questions? Why would I have questions? I mean, I assume he just got my name from someone … well yea, who did he get my name from, and why the trek here? He looks so worn out and beat up. Other than that, I thought that I was just going to fix his brace.’ Rivet pondered the question about questions for a moment before a slender tendril of aetheric energy began to type on her typewriter. A small slip levitated in front of Martel.

“Well, just one. Maybe two. Where get my name? & From Germaney, why come all way here?” The slip read, as the mare put on her best inquisitive face.

‘I mean, I know ponies from around here pop in every once in a blue moon with something broken and aske me to fix it. But I didn’t think that my name had gotten as far as Germeney. I wonder who gave it to him, and how it got all the way out there!’ Rivet’s mind raced as she tried to figure out why the stallion had come from so far away to get a simple lighthouse mechanic to fix his leg brace.

Rivet sipped her tea and looked over her glasses at the stallion awaiting his reply. ‘It’s nice to talk to people every once in awhile.’ The normally marginally shy mare thought to herself.

‘I guess it depends on the pony. OH, and crowds. Those are what get me. One on one, I can deal with but all those bodies pressed up against mine … BLECH.’ Her mind wandered to other problems.

Ghosttastic! That's the word that should be used to describe your pixel art, Ghosttastic. Anywho, I usually don't request arts, but if it will help you practice, I'll gladly ask you ever so kindly if you would please draw one of my OCs! Would you, out of the kindness of your awesomely large heart, please draw Edelweiss for an old decrepit pony like myself who has the inability to arts?? Thank you so much Ghostgirl, I really do appreciate it!

~Sage

“If the weather holds out, this might actually be a relatively relaxing two week’s leave.” Veracity thought to herself as the roan mare walked down the streets of the Kuznitza District of Stalliongrad. The night was fairly typical of the Northern City; the air was cold and crisp usually stinging the lungs if you took a deep enough breath. Veracity had been putting the ‘Moral Constraints’ through its paces for the past few weeks, part of the recertification process, and after a set of rather strenuous war games culminating in a live fire test that went smashingly she requested a short shore leave. The brass of the K.O.G. seemed to think that it was a good idea as well, plus the new first mate had arrived a few days before and he could be trusted to take care of the ship for two weeks. ‘It’s not like they are going to sail without me, the recertification inspection will take at least two weeks, if not longer. Plus it will give Martel bonding time with the crew.’ Veracity thought to herself as she paused next to an old abandoned factory.

The mare dug in her uniform’s pockets and fished out a soft pack of Lucky Bucks cigarettes, she took one in her mouth and then proceed to light it. The acrid smoke stung her lungs slightly, but the flavour couldn't be beat. As she gave it the first few puffs to get it going she surveyed her surroundings. Upon looking up at the factory’s uppermost set of windows she noticed an odd sight that caused her to pause for a moment. There hovered a little pegasus, smooshing his face up against the sooty glass and trying to get a better look inside of the dilapidated propellor factory. The pegasus was a light brown colour with a darker brown mane and a slightly less than average physique. He surely didn’t look like the type to be snooping around at night, this was odd.

Veracity stood in the shadows for a while watching the pegasus inspect the windows looking for something but then an odd thing occured. From what she could make out in the murky darkness, a soft green light aided him in opening the window and he flew inside.

‘Well now ...’ Veracity thought to herself as she dropped the cigarette and crushed it out with her hoof.

“Tonight might just get interesting after all.” The officer mumbled as she spread her above average size wings and adjusted the feathers for flight. She also tightened the strap on her rapier and undid the small piece of leather cord that she used to hold her rapier in it’s scabbard.

Veracity’s wings took one downstroke and she was airborne, aloft on the cool breeze. She quietly flew over to the window where the pony had been looking in and observed the scene herself. Being that she was in an official uniform it was unlikely that anypony would mistake her for a would be trespasser. She spied the little pegasus, he was just sitting down in the factory all alone.

‘Why is he just sitting there? Maybe he is waiting for someone, I best wait to see what they are up to.’ Veracity thought, quietly flapping in place.

Shortly a small, what looked to be unicorn appeared on a gantry and yelled something that she couldn’t make out at the pegasus. The two spoke briefly, again veracity couldn’t make out what they were saying, then the pegasus flew up to the foreman’s office and they closed the door.

This was Veracity’s chance, she stealthily slunk into factory through the now open window and perched up in the rafters. Now it was impossible for her to hear what was going on, but with the very slight light in the office she was able to make out general shapes and locations of the ponies relative to each other. As they spoke she gently walked across the rafters so that she was in a more opportune location to see the pair and maybe discern what exactly was going on. From this new angle she could make out every third word or so. Apparently they were speaking of how nice the ponies were who lived here or some such. Then something about the military. She got the impression that the smaller outline was the boss and the one, that she assumed was a pegasus, was an underling.

Then something very strange happened, yet again. This time it was far more obvious than the last however. An eerie green glow and what sounded like crackling sparks seemed to fill the entire office, and a portion of the factory floor below. Veracity remained perched on her rafter for a few more moments until the crackling died down. In the eerie green light she could see the two figures more clearly. They had odd shapes, translucent wings, odd holes in their legs, and ragged horns.

‘These, things, must be the changelings that attacked Canterlot a while back. Odd, I’ve only heard about them by rough description but from what I’ve heard they usually operate in larger numbers. Oh well, time to go to work!’ Veracity thought to herself as she drew her rapier.

She hopped off of the rafter and pulled her wings in; to dive and pick up some speed first. She would need all the speed that she could muster for the stunt that she was going to pull off. As she neared the floor the practiced mare flared her wings open and caught the air, rocketing up towards the office windows. She pumped hard with her wings, squeezing every last ounce of speed that she could out of them. She pulled her wings in again and reached forward with her hooves as she neared the window. She felt the glass break into tiny little shards,

‘Safety glass, thank Luna.’ She thought to herself.

As she burst through the window into the small office she flared her wings again, not only to stop but to look bigger than she actually was; more intimidating. There she stood with her front legs crossed, rapier in her mouth, and wings open wide as the glass fell all around her.

She managed to shout, “Stalliongrad Sky Marshall, cease and desist all activities. You are under arrest by the order of the K.O.G.!!” Hopefully these changelings wouldn't put up too much of a fight, this was her vacation after all.

‘Martel Von Starkhuf, that’s a Germane name! GERMANE! That’s the accent.’ Rivet exclaimed to herself, as a look of recognition came across her face. She looked over the stallion again, he was in peak physical condition despite his rather ragged appearance. Well developed and defined muscles under a well kept royal purple pelt shone through the remnants of mud and dirt, and a well defined jaw with a stern yet honest face topped off the package. Rivet felt the ever so familiar heat on the bridge of her snout return. ‘Buck it Rivet, don’t blush! Stop thinking about how the wet stallion on your floor looks like Trots Boulder from the S-Files novels.’ Rivet’s ears went out to the side and the bridge of her nose became hotter. ‘BUCK IT!’ She quietly raged in her head, before thinking of optimizing steam pressure on a unit that was superheated. As the blush subsided, she smiled apologetically again whilst typing.

“I have a couch, by the fireplace. Come, sit, get warm. Welcome to stay as long as needed. Once comfy, then talk fixing / bits.”The slight mare made an earnest face as she reached out with her magic to help stabilize and compensate for his rear leg. He may have been a solid stallion but next to some pieces of machinery he wasn’t that cumbersome to lift and move. The trip through the first story of her house was short but convoluted. They wove their way through shelving units piled high with pieces of equipment ranging from simple spanners to items that only Rivet knew what did. There were piles of parts, junk, good junk, general junk, dirty junk, broken parts, dirty parts, gears, valves, and many more things. While the scene looked like chaos, Rivet had her own system and knew exactly where every piece and part was. Pipes ran across the ceiling and down the walls, there were dials and valves throughout the maze of pipes. For anypony who didn’t have formal training in steam engineering, the place would have looked like something out of a work of fiction, the perfect embodiment of an engineer’s paradise. After the convoluted and interesting trip, they arrived at an antique loveseat. It was no more than a hoof length off of the ground with high sides and a high back. The arms were rolled over with ornate scrollwork and along with the claw and ball feet, deep red upholstery with golden fleur-de-lis embroidery, it looked wholly out of place where it sat. While it may have been well used, looking as though Rivet had slept on it many a time, the well worn sofa offered a very comfortable place to sit for Martel.

By the time they had arrived, Rivet’s blush was all but vanished and she looked a little tired. Moving the stallion through the maze was a little tricky, as the corridors were not made with such a large pony in mind. ‘I should clean up a little, I mean, what happens if I ever have company such as Martel here! The place looks a mess!’ Rivet scolded herself as she helped Martel onto the couch. That being done she looked at him with a big smile and cocked her head to the right while she typed again.

“There, hope comfy, not too small for you. I’ll get blanket and pillows, be back in a jiff!”

After the slip of paper levitated in front of Martel for just long enough for the normal pony to read it, Rivet took off again. She hurried up stairs, as her hoofbeats could be heard through the high ceiling of the first story. She trotted about up stairs for a short while before returning to Martel with three pillows and two blankets in tow. She smiled and arranged them as best that she could for him, although the blankets would have been a little much seeing as the house was quite a bit warmer than outside and the fireplace threw off a good amount of heat by itself. The little mare trotted off again and returned again, this time with a small low table, and a teapot with some sooty looking cups in tow. She set up the table within Martel's reach, set down the teapot and the cups, blew the soot off as best she could, and poured a warm cup of sassafras tea for both of them.Rivet plopped her flank down on the rough hewn pine floorboards. She took a sip of the tea, and began to type something out again with a rather unique smile.

“First visitor in long time, sorry about your brace, will fix it, make it better for you. Are you okay though? Need anything? Hurt at all? Not used to taking care of ponies, only machines.”

The large purple pony that Rivet had dragged inside of her home was now standing not more than two feet in front of her, speaking very loudly in a rather heavy accent. ‘What accent is that?’ She wondered to herself. ‘It sounds similar to a Stalliongrad accent, but it’s heavier and muddier.’ Rivet was lost in thought as the pony introduced himself, she was so caught up trying to place his accent that she missed him introducing himself. What caught her attention was his movement. She shuffled away at first, for fear of him clobbering her and trying to make off with her inventions. As she cowered with both her ears out to the side and a scared expression upon her muzzle, the glint of metal caught her eye. Her nose scrunched up, her ears went out at odd angles, and then she realized something, ‘This stallion can’t walk!’ She blurted to herself. ‘And he uses a brace to compensate for that. Ohhh it looks all smashed up.’ As she confidently strode over to the stallion’s rear leg, almost paying no mind to him, a green tendril of aetheric energy reached out and picked up first her glasses, and then her banged up, trusty, red, pressed steel toolbox. The tools jangled and clanged together as she walked over to his hind quarters, hopefully the stallion didn't mind that she hadn't said a word to him since his arrival.

Rivet scrutinized the hunk of metal for a few moments, poking at it here, prodding there. ‘Crude but effective, I’ll give whoever made this that.’ She made a clicking noise with her tongue, one of the few noises that she could actually make, as she levitated a small spanner out of the toolbox and began to disassemble the brace off of the hind leg. Once she was complete it fell to the floor with a cacophonous noise. Intent upon this rather crude device Rivet levitated it onto the workbench that was her kitchen table and looked it over further. Rivet finally realized that she had forgotten something, ‘RIVET!! You have forgotten to introduce yourself, you've left an injured and probably very tired pony standing in your kitchen, and haven't even said a word to him! Where are your manners!?!? Go make him more comfortable!’

Rivet wore an embarrassed look upon her face as she slunk back to the stallion and looked at him. She smiled her best smile and reached out for her typewriter that she usually kept at her side, alas it wasn't with her. She hadn't had it with her due to the fact that she was working alone all day. ‘Rivet, what is wrong with you today. First the door knocking, then the pony, now your typewriter. This storm has put you all out of sorts hasn't it.’ She scolded herself. Rivet lifted a hoof up in a, ‘Please wait one moment.’ gesture and trotted off again to find her mechanical voice.

Upon finding her voice she quickly trotted back to the purple pony with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, name is Rivet. Not used to company. You okay, need anything? Food, chair, more towels? Sorry again. What’s name?” A small slip of paper flew in front of Martel accompanied by another overly friendly smile.

“Do you need fix leg brace? Not that complex, rather easy. Could build it better if want.” The second piece of paper queued up under the first, floating in place allowing Martel to read them comfortably.

Hello! I don't comment on much of anything really so this is rather rare. Honestly I just wanted to say, good job! I like this pony a whole heck of a lot. I think you accurately pinned down the feelings and the essence of what makes him who he is! Also I dig the 1930's gangster vibe to him. I can't wait to see him in action. Also, if you ever want a sort of moral cop to play against, as in a game of cat and mouse or some such, do not hesitate to give me a buzz! I think that Slick here would utterly loathe Captain Veracity and I think it would be fun to see them match wits! Anywho, good job I say, old chum!

~Sage

Roleplay Type:

Canterlot Chronicles

Name:

Captain Veracity : Delta Company, 10th battalion “Orlov”

Sex:

Female

Age:

Middle age mare. (Analogous to mid forties human years)

Species:

Pegasus

Eye colour:

Stark light blue contrasting her dark muzzle colour. Eyes

Coat:

Dark Roan. Soot black on her muzzle and legs, changing to a light grey around her body core. Her wings also follow this colour pattern the leading edge is soot black with the tips of her pinion feathers being a very light grey.

Coat

Mane/Tail:

Midnight black, usually kept in hunter braids aside from the forelock which she keeps in a style known as bumper bangs. When they are unbraided, her mane is of a medium length.

Style: Mane Tail Forelock

Physique:

Well toned from military Physical Training. Veracity’s stature is that of the average Stalliongrad mare, slightly taller than the ordinary Imperial mare but not overly enormous. Her presence, however, commands attention, respect, and obedience.

Residence:

Currently deployed aboard the “Moral Constraints” as the commanding officer. She also has quarters befitting her station at the Stabil Krasnyi, along with a small second story apartment in the Kuznitza District.

Occupation:

Veracity is a career military mare having enlisted as soon as she was able to during her fillihood and rose through the ranks to her current station as Captain of Delta Company in the10th battalion “Orlov”.

Cutie Mark:

Veracity was brought up in a military family by military parent, which meant that obviously she would be attending the KOG Academy in Stalliongrad when she was of age. Unfortunately Veracity was a late bloomer when it came to her cutie mark and social interactions alike. She was still a blank flank when she was shipped off to the academy; by that age most other fillies and colts had discovered their true callings. This predicament lead to many incidents of the older ponies making fun of her, and her small group of fellow blank flanks. Veracity spent most of her time wrapped up in her studies and fencing practice while trying to ignore these goons. However, during her second year, there was one incident to which she took extreme exception. A large Earth Pony, who had received his cutie mark already, and his gang of ruffians had a small and diminutive filly first year cadet cornered while on break. They were making fun of her and encroaching closer, looking as though they were going to pick her up and throw her into the nearby dumpster. Veracity had quite enough of this and flew in from above and placed herself in between the group and the filly. She politely asked the group to disband, when they did not comply with her request she drew her practice foil and laid the group of ruffians low with precise jabs and painful whacks from the flat of the blade. Caught up in the scuffle, Veracity did not feel the tingle on her flank. In fact while she was checking to see if the young filly was okay the cadet had to inform her of the new addition. From that point forward, she knew that her place in the World was to protect the ponies that could not protect themselves. She would be the champion of the ponies of Stalliongrad, even if most of them never really knew of her actions or station.

Her cutie mark is an Algiz rune (denoting the urge to protect others and be a shield) surrounded by a pair of stag antlers (which mean, to the residents of Stalliongrad, strength and honour). These symbols are all white against her dark coat.

Cutie Mark

Unique Traits:

Glasses: Veracity wears rather dainty hoof made glasses, made in the Rasya district by a very renown artisan. She is slightly farsighted from years of scanning the horizon. This requires her to wear small reading glasses on the tip of her nose. She uses these to read maps, reports, and see details of battle strategies. Most of the time these are left on the tip of her nose, unless a battle is imminent, then she stows them in her uniform.

Inspired by - These

Uniform: Veracity is almost always seen in her military uniform. This is of standard VSS design, light grey with white details.The fabric is a medium thickness felt and meticulously tailored to fit her form. The collar is higher than normal REA collars and the tails are moderately longer than standard REA all to keep out the cold. She always keeps it clean, crisp, and perfectly ironed.

Almost identical to - This uniform Cap

Rapier: Veracity carries a beautifully hoofcrafted rapier on her person at all times. She is never without her trusty tool. Yet another artisanally crafted piece, the rapier was handed down in her family from generation to generation. It was originally crafted for her great-great-great-great-great-great Grandsire, being a VSS commander himself he had it commissioned from one of the best smiths in the Kuznitza district. She is more than proficient with it’s use, in fact she refuses to use any other weapon whilst engaged in combat. The rapier itself is exceedingly light and precisely balanced. It was crafted for aerial combat, being held in the mouth whilst flying.

Similar to - Rapier hilt

Airship “Moral Constraints” : Veracity is the current commanding officer of the VSS “Moral Constraints”. The "Moral Constraints" is an impressive large/medium size airship of Stalliongrad pedigree. She is fast, stealthy, maneuverable, and has above average endurance. The "Moral Constraints" was designed and retrofitted with a very special purpose in mind; she is a pirate hunter. Able to achieve high speeds both in the air and in the water, it would be a very lucky or an especially cunning pirate that outran her. She is a formidable sight but with Veracity at her helm she is a force to be reckoned with.

For people who are concerned with a more lengthy and technical description of the "Moral Constraints" and her specifications take a peek behind the spoiler tags and you won't be disappointed.

The “Moral Constraints” is a Rapid Offensive Vessel [ROV] in the Inquisitor class of Stalliongrad Airframes. These airframes are equitable to the Aqueilian Very Fast Frigate [VFF] class, however being of Stalliongrad design they use Aether Reactive [AR] gas in a center chamber rather than lighter than air [LTA] gas in an overhead envelope. This allows the airframe to have greater maneuverability and a more aerodynamic structure allowing for a higher top speed. The AR gas also allows for iron scantlings and steel armour making for an incredibly durable and damage resistant ship. The powerplant is a highly experimental rotary steam engine, known simply as, “The Halo”. Each Halo unit has thirteen cylinders and they are stacked five deep, meaning that there are sixty five cylinders driving the main shaft at very high speeds. These units were installed in the relatively older Inquisitor Airframe by a military contractor known as Northern Star Industries [NSI] in conjunction with a freelancer named Rivet. This overhaul, which took place at a quaint little Lighthouse outside of Hoofington, laid the ship up for over five months but was completely worth the time in drydock. The superstructure of the ship is attached to the central AR gas envelope and each crew deck is connected to the other by a series of ladders and bulkheads. The main bridge rides atop the superstructure of the main top deck, this affords for high visibility whilst retaining stealth capabilities. The blisters on the side of the AR envelope contain the water required for the massive aft engineering bay. The Halo supplies power only to the main propeller to the aft of the ship. However there are four ducted fan pods equally placed port and starboard, fore and aft. These pods are powered by a thirteen cylinder Halo engine each and are used for maneuvering, breaking, and docking. The pods can rotate to slightly over one hundred eighty degrees meaning that they can also supply additional thrust when in emergency conditions. For lateral movement, steam can be vented from special thruster ports to adjust the lateral trim. There are also weapons blisters studded along the outside of the ship, along with the twin linked forward mounted cannon, making it more than capable of defending itself and the greater Stalliongrad area from pirates and monsters alike.

All in all the “Moral Constraints” was designed and retrofitted for stealth, speed, endurance, and maneuverability. With a displacement of 3,800 tonnes, a length of 141 meters, a beam length of 14 meters, a draft of 10 meters, and a top speed of over 130 kph in the air and 25 knots while floating on the water. It is an imposing ship, especially with its full complement of 230 or so ponies including; officers, enlisted ponies, flight squadron with support staff, and occasionally the ISU-143 “Molot”.

Inspired by - Art Design (Please note, I do not own this picture. All credit to the owners. I simply used it as an inspiration for the design of the “Moral Constraints”.)

History:

Veracity was born into a military family living in the Kuznitza District of Stalliongrad, both her mother and father were distinguished military commanders. Being an only foal her father was disappointed that she was not a colt. Instead of treating her like a dainty little filly, though, her father instead treated her as he would have a colt and brought her up in the military style. She was taught the meaning of respect and honour at a young age, along with tactics and swordplay. She was never concerned much with the fact that her cutie mark had not yet appeared by the time that she was shipped out to the KOG Academy. During her tenure at the KOG Academy not only did she gain a superior knowledge of tactics, swordplay, strategy, discipline, character, and most of all leadership, but she also gained her cutie mark and a new determination in life. Veracity excelled at the military life and way of thinking that was being taught in the academy. She managed to graduate with honours high honours. After her graduation speech, at which her mother and father were present, her father presented her with his family rapier, a very meaningful gesture to the still young Veracity. After the academy she immediately joined the VSS as a cadet in the Naval operations sector. She rose through the ranks and over the years she served a very distinguished career in the VSS 10th battalion, eventually being promoted to the rank of captain and being placed in command of both Delta company and the “Moral Constraints.”

While she is a career military mare, who leads a very structured and disciplined life, she still enjoys the simple things. Along with her military quarters she maintains a simply furnished and very civilian second floor apartment in the Kuznitza District. This apartment is her get away from the grind of her military life and just slow down and relax, though she uses it very rarely. She also occasionally likes to go up onto the flying bridge and let the wind flow through her mane and tail, after untying them of course, though again this is very rare, and very few of her crew know that she ever undoes her mane, let alone lets the wind blow through it. She also enjoys a good glass of Stallianoya, this is a habit that slightly more of her crew know about however. She is not a friend to her crew, she is a commanding officer. This does not preclude her from having meaningful relationships with a select few of her crew, but it does mean that most of her crew do not know more than is customary for a crewmember to know about their captain. Her crew is comprised of loyal, disciplined, and driven individuals that were hoof picked for their assignment on the “Moral Constraints.”

Due to her upbringing and her goal in life she finds ponies that are without discipline or that put others in harm’s way, by action or inaction, contemptible. This ire is mostly directed at the scourge of the skies, pirates. She finds their lack of discipline, honour, and just utter brashness repugnant. That along with the fact that they routinely put civilian ponies, and even entire towns at risk by their actions has caused her to take it upon herself to hunt down these rag tag scoundrels and show them what justice truly is.

Character Summary:

Veracity is more than your typical military mare. While she holds deeply the tenants of honour, discipline, and respect, she also holds deeply the enjoyment for the simple life that most residents of Stalliongrad strive for. She is an accomplished captain and swordsmare that commands respect with her mere presence and steely gaze. She does have her soft side however, which she indulges in now and again. She has an utter contempt for anyone who breaks the laws, or puts other ponies in danger and is dedicated to bringing them to justice. Though tough and cold at first, once one gets to know Veracity they may find a friend forever.

Rainy days were not Rivet's favorite of all days. During these times the light-house needed extra care to be kept running properly. The fog horn, which oddly she liked, would sound every few minutes to help ships navigate. The problems arose when the wind blew, as it was this day, and battered the salt spray on the inner workings of the light-house, especially the lamp house. Not only did the salt spray from the ocean corrode some of the metal pieces, which would then have to be meticulously replaced, but it also occasionally put out the oil lamp that provided the light for ponies to navigate by. Since she was charged with keeping the light-house operational it fell to her and her alone to make sure that the lamp never dimmed. This meant some rather sleepless nights curled up in the lens room making sure that the wind didn't put out her light.

This is how Rivet was spending this day, up and down the stairs, in and out of the tower, checking and rechecking the lamp and the inner workings of her machines. She would have much rather been spending this time working on her inventions, specifically the 'Halo Engines' as they were called. After that trip to Stalliongrad she had gained a new fervor and started improving the engines even further. Alas today was a day dedicated to the light-house, sometimes she wished that she could have a helper on these occasions, someone to at least talk to while whiling away the hours.

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP

'What in Equestria was that?!' Rivet thought as her ears perked up to the odd noise.

WHUMP WHUMP

'It isn't the shutters, I closed all of them up. Maybe something broke down in the engine room? No, it would be more regular and less … purposeful?'

WHUMP

As Rivet trotted about her house trying to find the source of the noise it finally dawned on her, somepony was knocking on her front door. 'Oh come now, you can optimize steam engine efficiency in your sleep but you cant figure out that somepony is knocking at your door? You'd loose your head if it wasn't attached.' The young mare scolded herself. She was covered head to hoof in her usual grime, supplemented with some lamp oil here and there. Her tail was a mess and her mane in its usual braid. She was not one for dressing up for company, and she hoped that her guest didn't mind.

The smile on her face was quickly shattered and replaced with a look of confusion with a hint of fear as she opened her rather large front door. Before her lay a drenched, filthy, hurt looking, monster of a purple stallion.

“Is this Rivet's place?” His voice growled at her.

Being who she was Rivet immediately shrunk back into her home. If she had not been mute, a “Meep!” could have been heard. Cowering in fear behind her kitchen table, hundreds of scenarios danced through her little noggin. Most of these contained some link to a 'Pony Crime Syndicate that was stationed out of Stalliongrad, and had come to steal her inventions.' Whether or not this syndicate actually even existed was completely unknown, most likely it was a figment of her overactive imagination. When you don't get out much, your mind tends to make up interesting ideas, and those hard boiled crime novels that she had recently picked up from that goofy Zebra Monty hadn't helped at all.

The odd thing was, this pony was unaccompanied and not pushing his way into her home. He was just sitting there as a lump on the ground. 'Maybe he isn't a bad guy?' She mused as she peaked out over the top of her table. The stallion was rather impressive in stature and build, well he would have been if he had not been crumpled up in a ball on the ground. Rivet's curiosity got the best of her as she slowly edged towards the purple lump. She poked his shoulder with a dirty but still off white hoof, which she quickly retracted in fear of reprisal. Nothing happened. She poked again, this time rocking his shoulders. She had a perplexed look on her face as the stallion's grey eyes met her lively green ones. There was a look of helplessness in this otherwise strong stallion's gaze.

Against her instincts to run and hide, Rivet tried as hard as she could to drag the poor wretch inside of the rather warm and humid light-house proper. A few tendrils of her pale green magic, and a healthy dose of pushing on his flank finally got him inside of the house. Closing the door Rivet ran off into another room, only to return with some towels. Clean as they might be, they were still stained from years of grease and grime. She piled them next to the stallion and pushed them gingerly forward with her muzzle. She stepped back afterward, tilted her head to the side, and puzzled at the stallion, one of her ears out to the side and the other straight up in the air.