CherryRie

AWww thankyou ^^, yeah I kinda didn't have much room last night and ended up sleeping like a relaxed vampire. Laying on my back, hands on my belly and feet inadvertantly crossed cus I didnt' know where else to putem XD

Fillydelphia. Easy on the eye, I suppose, an innocent pony might even call it a haven before the wilds of the untamed desert. Unsuspecting, the city rests on the last jut of green plains before the grand expanse of the Leading Ocean, the last true marker of the Equestria's civilised lands. Shame really, to ruin the illusion. But where ever you go, no matter how peaceful and wholesome things may seem, there's always a secret. There's always a crime. A pony's just got to know where to look. A dark alley. Cliche but true. This is the kind'a place. Sickly iridescence from guttering street lamps paints the scene in a tableau of deep shadows and greyscale walkways. An hour normally reserved for a 'special' kind of street life chimes on a distant clock tower, whose face looked down upon a city of both virtue and sin. Through this noir oil canvas drifts the scent of fresh rain, musty hay and rhubarb smoke. And the sound of shattering glass. There's always a story. In some ways i's never stopped being told, but this is where we pick up from. -- 'Everypony has their price, what was yours?' Betrayal. The words came back first, her words, deadened sound filtering through the fog in her head. Nothing felt right. Tingly needles ran down her legs and wings as the world swam in a pool of sluggish inebriety. Hot breath on the back of her neck laced with cooling tears falling through her mane. Rhythm akin to a pounding heartbeat filled the remaining space, leaving only the gradually crystallising moment. Limbs numb from a hard sprung mattress, a swamping soft embrace of bed sheets filling her watery reality with an intrusive pressure. Congealed senses piled up in vivid strata, floating through her cotton wool thoughts. Through the humid gloom a voice, familiar in nuance and passion, spoke an undeniable answer. "...Cherry. I'm so sorry." Instinct. A snap of hooves against flesh, the window filled her clouded vision. Prismatic shards fell with her tumbling form, wings unresponsive as livid pain cut through the hazy vale of drug addled existence. Adrenaline rushed in to fill the space left by the relieved pressure, the street below meeting her side on and shaking the breath from her burning lungs. Nothing felt right. "WAIT! DON'T-" Voices. Loud, angry voices from high above cut through the pain and revealed the darkened ally into which she had fallen. Light sprang into focus, spilling across the red brick that framed the bridleway beyond. Shaking and aching legs lifted the Pegasus up against the rough wall as she tride to make sense of her surroundings. Someway behind her a door was flung open. From its arch a thin needle of brilliance lanced into the darkness, strobing briefly as winged figures stepped through the aperture. Operating on some lower level of consciousness, she broke into a haphazard gallop, heading into the street. Breath catching in her dry throat and fog crawling across her panicked vision, Cherry ran, the wings of her pursuers beating close behind. Warm lights of business and late night venues flooded the street far ahead. But here only the dim lamp light lit the avenue, and the burst of strength that had propelled her thus far was slipping away with every laboured step. The wings bore down upon her. A stifled shriek escaped the mulberry Pegasus as she felt the strike of hooves against her flank and keeled uncontrollably into the side of the street. Skittering away from the assailant, the young pony looked up at the two heavy set shapes that alighted on either side of her fallen form. Still she tried to escape, unable to stand and simply pulling herself away from the shadows. “Come on kid, don't do this." She couldn't do this. "There ain't no where to run no more." There was nowhere to run.

Also, note to self, see about getting jaw reatached, it appears to be loose in pannel one.

Seriously, I've been up for like six hours now and still can't stand up right

Quickly! To the Clone'o'mat!

Smoked or fresh from the pig?

“You don’t know the half of it.” Cherry grimaced at the mention of her past traumas. Even through the darkness it was clear that the filly was exhausted, a week smile gracing her gaunt façade as she listened to the chivalrous pledge. “Very poetic,” She said, stretching out a pained wing “If a little dramatized. Still, thank you. Somehow it's... better, knowing I’m not entirely alone out here.” A guttering flash of light from beyond the barn doors highlighted the glint of metal laying nearby “Sorry for the rude awakening too, I’m more than a little high strung at the moment. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here yourself? Ponyville is quite out of the way?”

Cherry feeds the parasprites a kitten. Seriously, is anyone else getting a little worried with the quantity and 'weirdness' of the pony clop out there? I can understand the tumbler blogs as they're mostly in jest, taking the jokes both inside and out to an adult level. But yesh! There's enough around now to fill a hundred editions of playcolt. Please, I beg of you! THINK OF THE KITTENS! I don't have that many and the pet store is already suspcious

“Really? Any flavour?” For such a small cart there was quite the selection. Flavours to suit any pallet, be they sweet or sour, tangy or fruity were laid out in a rainbow of colours before the curious filly. “Mmmm Cinnamon and honey, please!” Hoof cup securing holding her cornet, Peabee thanked the stall owner stood back from the adults while they made their selections. Maybe getting lost wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Everypony seemed really nice here. Miss Tempest had bought her ice cream and Mister Rockefilly made her laugh, which rapidly promoted both of them in the filly’s eyes. Though normally easily distracted, in the presence of anything sweet the filly was as single minded as a buzz saw. Her eyes were drawn back to the tasty treat in the cardboard hoofclasp, a gradually forming drip warranting immediate attention. Practically beaming with delight, Peabee licked at the soft umber desert, ever meandering thoughts turning to a quizzical conundrum. “How many flavours of Ice cream are there?” She asked out loud, concentration still seemingly glued her own present example.

Outside, beyond the smoky walls of the dimly lit bar, a fine mist of spring rain settled upon the sleepy city. Then again, it was always raining in Manehatten of a week night. Sickly iridescence from guttering street lamps painted the nighttime streets in a tableau of deep shadows and grayscale walkways. An hour normally reserved for a specially adapted street life was chiming on a distant clock tower, whose face looked down upon a city of sin and virtue. Through this noir oil canvas trudged a mulberry Pegasus with the determined look of the terminally sober. Striking sanguine eyes locked on the flickering neon sign that marked her destination with an otherworldly blue hue. Even through the trailing damp mist that clung to her coat and mane, it was clear to see the Filly carried some air of well bred distinction, regardless of whatever weight was upon her slim shoulders. Pausing for a moment to run a fetlock through her damp mane and replace the lily in her hair, the filly pushed aside the door to her favored watering hole and disappeared into the sudden burst of warm light. As with any charming inner city bar nopony bothered to turn and see who had entered, little being more important than inebriants or gossip. If they had, perhaps they would have commented on how young she looked to be in such a place, or how stoically ‘happy’ her mood clearly was. A small smile graced otherwise strained features, broadcasting to one and all that here was a filly who did not want to talk about anything, unless it involved the bottom of a glass. With the door swinging shut behind her, the filly set her eyes on the long bar and made her way across the fine carpeted floor. Taking up station a seat away from a formal looking unicorn, she patiently fixed her gaze on the bartender, whom turned a jovial smile to the newcomer. “Ahh madam!” Joked the weighter, setting aside the drink he had been preparing “You’re looking ‘ravishing’ as always” “Not tonight Dusk, please.” The filly begged, relaxing into the polished oak with her hooves outstretched “Right now, I really need a long Rhubarb Screwdriver.” Sucking a theatrical breath through his gold studded teeth, the landlord glance briefly at a row of bottles along the top shelf of the bar. Seemingly satisfied, a soft yellow hue surrounded one and plucked it from the mantelpiece along with a long tumbler. “Sure you wouldn’t like to start off on something smoother tonight?” Shaking her head in response, the mulberry pony watched in rapt apathy as the drink was prepared alongside the last order and set before her sunken features. Gratefully she took the straw in her mouth and drew a third of the foul concoction from its tumbler, wincing at the bitter sweet taste of liquid relief. “Not even watered down. Thanks Dusk. Needed that.” She muttered, more of a comment then a genuine compliment. The bartender nodded solemnly, turning to a rack of condiments and retrieving a salt lick for the other customer. “Who’s tab tonight then?” The Pegasus sighed almost silently. Dusk fully knew the answer to that question, but it was his little way of measuring exactly how bad she was feeling. She only ever paid the bills herself when things were bearable. “Tonight’s on him.” Replied the filly, contriving to indicate a none existent figure behind the bar, “Feel free to chuck something on there for yourself, hun.”

In much the same way that you mine for fish. With tact and determination.

Testing testing, one, two, four? Well WOW! What a change! This is more a test at the moment, to see what this looks like when posted up. I'll probably be editing this later but until then WEEEE New features!

SO! After some wrestling with myself I've started to write Morality once again. Heaven knows where this will endup, probably as just another damp squib. But I'd like to hear from anyone with an opinion. For the moment I'm working through introductions and scene setting. I've also worked on lightening the mood. What I'd love to know is 'if I were to carry on with this stile of writing and bring in mane characters, would this begining intrest you enough to cary on?' At present the story is OC focused and could be tagged as 'normal' with a tinge of comedy and dark. Later parts of the story will be darker, but will incude far greater deaph of character, mane cast apperances and additional tags of adventure and romance. Its roughly baced on the Heart of Equestria consept, but has no relation to that upcoming plot line. Morality Its only around 2K words atm, so don't expect anything much. Think of this as a test run to see whether the waters are worth travercing.