CherryRie

Hello everypony.

For those who are wondering what the hay this thread is about, last night several Chat residents started up an Irc-RP called 'Decent into Canterlot Crypts'. An adventure / interaction game, the premise was that the party have been hired to guide a researcher through the maze of old Canterlot in order to find certain artefacts. Suffice to say it was an absolute blast, especially given how impromptu the event was.

We have archived the events so far on a google Doc (see below) and with any luck will be resuming play sometime this weekend. Be warned the doc is raw RP mastery and requires a suspension of disbelief and ignorance of both grammar and spelling. (SEE THREE ‘AND’S! Its leeking! Quickly Brazil! Contain it with your mighty eyebrows!)

This thread will be used to archive the info that the group collects on their journey and coordinate times for new sessions. Let me say that this is a fairly open RP at the moment, and most pony's are welcome to join and leave whenever they please, you'll just be considered inactive for the latter time. If you wish to join in, please feel free, but do make mention here so that I can actually keep track of everypony

CANTERLOT CRYPTS ARCHIVE

Presently; We join our heroes in the Caverns beneath Canterlot Castle as they endeavour to uncover the secrets of this forgotten land and hopefully find a way home too. After searching a tower and discovering various magical maguffins, our valiant ponies were suddenly attacked by a fiendish creature, all fangs and legs. Defeating this foe proved a quick, if somewhat haphazard, task and after rescuing their charge from its clutches, they now head towards the central spire that dominates the centre of the domed cavern.

The party have attained a 'Simple Map'!

“No.” Croaked the filly, tears flowing freely as she gazed into the crystal depths of her beverage. “That’s the worst part. Poison goes where poison’s welcome. But what they do, even if it’s not ‘legally’ wrong, is wrong in a more fundamental way.”

Bitter sarcasm began to lace Cherry’s words. Behind the bar, Dusk suddenly became very engrossed in cleaning a glass.

“After all, it’s not ‘their’ fault that Rhubarb leaf isn’t as tightly controlled as it should be. It’s not their fault that she got hooked on the foul stuff either. Maybe they could have stopped supplying her when she started showing, but surely she knew the risks, so why bother? Not their look out. After all, it’s just Business.”

She was almost spitting through the tears now, teeth gritted in anger and pain “Business that cost her everything. Her job. Her Mate... her foal. Six weeks premature and suffering from leaf poisoning. The poor thing didn’t stand a chance. She has to live with the fact that her weakness killed her son. But it was those parasites who used that vice for their own petty gains.”

Breathing heavily to choak back wracking sobs, Cherry seemed to be gradualy zoning out, speaking more to herself then anypony in particular.

“Celestia has given us a world that’s so close to perfection, nopony need want for anything. But ‘they’ exploit weakness, let ‘profit’ guide them like some unfeeling machine. Horse-apples, I’d only gone in to the clinic for some aspirin, just some feathering aspirin. What was I supposed to do? Leave her to face the wreckage alone?”

“Maybe not all the blame can be placed at their hooves, but most of it can. Whether it’s gambling on the economy, selling out ponies’ homes from under them or providing Leaf to pregnant mares, nothing is beneath those ‘ponies’. In a thousand tiny ways they chip away at the world, and for what? A hoof full of Bits?!?" And at this she rounded on her drinking partner, eyes wide and pleeding, "Money can’t buy happiness, or a soul! And it should never be exchanged for either!”

Rage subsiding, the Pegasus settled slightly with her head resting in her fore-hooves “Directly or not, ‘They’ steal away lives and leave others in ruins, all for the sake of a few shiny coins. And they’d do it all again if they could. As far as I’m concerned, they don’t deserve this world.”

Something about her tone enthecised that this was not a suggestion of cardinal punishment, but rather insidious observation, as though literally taking the world from a pony was worse than death.

Cherry gazed blurrily at her drinking buddy. Despite the mugginess floating in her head, righteous indignation still bubbled to the surface, showing in her expression far more then she would have liked.

“Don’t just assume that every business is the same. I can’t just... If accepting fate means sacrificing the happiness of others, then I’ll gallop till my legs give out.”

Distracted as he was, the business pony didn’t notice the look Dusk shot across the bar as the broken glass was whisked away and replaced by a fresh beverage. He’d seen this before, something had happened and left the filly in a bad way. Cracks were forming in her composure, any second the alcohol would win out and the dam would break. And this slimy goit was the last pony she needed to be around when that happened.

“Miss dawn, would you like me to-”

“No!” the filly blurted, wings ruffling as she confronted the buck.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to sit here and drink till something in life makes sense again. Everypony meanders around in a daydream, like the world will magically become perfect if they just ignore the bits they don’t like. Well it’s not perfect-” she slurred, voice cracking with pain “-for some it’s bucking horrible. Just the idea that there are ponies out there that would actually make it WORSE for them... horse apples I can’t do this anymore.”

Something had shifted about the Pegasus. Gone was the perpetual smile, replaced by soul crushing despair “I promised Sunny I wouldn’t do it again, I PROMICED... but I couldn’t just... Celestia curse it, it’s like I’m dying inside.”

Laughing richly, Cherry rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly at the business pony’s suggestion.

“Funny you should mention that. You could say I’m the odd one out in the family, their business isn’t to my taste and I really don’t want anything to do with it. Mind you that’s not for lack of trying on my parent’s part.”

Once again the filly looked up at the long mirror, watching the other patrons with the inebriated subtlety of a half brick.

“Makes you wonder who you’re out to please sometimes, yourself or them. Grandfather started the business. I thought he'd be upset that I didn't want in. But ya know the funny thing is, though I know he’s 'unhappy' about it, I think... I hope, he’s proud of what I’m trying to do instead. Somehow that dosn't make it seem as awful.”

All in all, considering they had to launch into the plot rather quickly, not a bad episode. I can see they had to make a lot of concessions to keep everything together.

Sadly, though Discord's entry is suitably dramatic, the entire plot is horribly flawed at the setup point. Considering what we learned about the elements from the original pilot eps it doesn’t make a lick of sense why they would even bother searching. Unless you're telling me that neither an immortal goddess nor her supposedly highly ‘intelligent’ student have made the childish leap of logic required to realise the Elements were never physical objects in the first place >.<

The trick with any illusion is to know where the rabbit is. In the case of the ‘locked room’ disappearance trick, it is safe to say the bunny was never in the box to begin with.

I have a feeling that, given how much Luna was mentioned in the setup scene, that we might see her step in to slap some sense into our heroes. Hopefully, now that the stage is set the next episode will be a real humdinger.

Honestly, over all I can't say I'm disappointed. It was brilliant entertainment with everything I've come to expect of the amazing show that they're creating. I'm just surprised at how forced and awkward the whole first half of the episode feels, dumbing down the some of the characters to the point at which it defies belief.

..

You know, actually, if this is how things really are; as in our heroes really wouldn't 'get it', then they deserve everything Discord throws at them. For now I'm rooting for our Chaotic neighbourhood Draconaquis. He and his amazing voice can whisk away my laws of causality any day.

Frictionless hooves. I can only imagin it ending in a game of Cherry curling >.>

She was falling. Clouds wrapped around her, enveloping the young filly in soft moist air. Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach as vertigo drew her onwards, hair was drawn out into long streamers behind and nightgown billowed with the rushing wind. The sensation was as real as anything she would experience in the waking world.

She had jumped so high. Up through the broken lines of a foal's painting. Out above the ruins of a forgotten world into an awaiting sky of rainbows and unending blue sea. Her hooves brushed the crest of a wave as it bore upon the sunset and watched as it broke against a sharp barricade of light, shattering into a thousand tiny white birds.

Now she fell, dragged down into unfeeling darkness. Once so gentle a wind stripped away both the clouds and her beautiful gown, leaving her venerable to crushing empathy. All around the figures of ponies rose through the air like counterweights to her decent, shedding their black fur and sailing into the vast blue of freedom. But it was not for her. She knew this. As the rhythmic pulsing of the dark threatened to overwhelm all, the world vanished and was replaced by the scent of oats.

An unfamiliar ceiling greeted Cherry’s open eyes. Awaking with barely more than a blink, she watched for some time as the stark shadow of a fan slowly crept across a featureless off white landscape. Somewhere in the entombing room of daylight shades and cotton blankets, the studious pendulum of an old clock cut the world into carefully measured moments. From deeper still wafted smell of cooking oats.

Rolling over onto her aching side, the filly regarded the decanter that stood on a bedside table, bending the curtains beyond into a strange warped fluidity. A bowl of water on the table proved a welcome relief to her parched throat. Despite the lack of gut rot or piercing headache, the young mare still felt horribly hung-over.

Vague recollections of the night before began to coalesce, events slotting themselves into place like a disorganised pack of playing cards. One thing she remember immediately was ‘his’ face, the sense of utter betrayal conveying most of what she needed to know in reassembling the other scattered bits of memory. Yet even with this revelation in hoof, panic still did not break through the depressingly heavy sanity pressing down on her mind.

Neither bound nor drugged, her wounds had been tended too and the door before her lay open into the room beyond. She was in a comfortable but not exquisite bedroom, its tasteless curtains billowing slightly from an open window they had been drawn across. All in all this was most unexpected.

Whad did she remember? What had happened last night? Where was Rich Tea?

She felt like a chariot had run her down, her mate was missing and she felt.... empty? Where she felt the righteous fury should have been, there was only an awful pit of numb nothingness. That much loathed part of her that was always watching proffered up several self analysis’, ranging from simple shock to ‘delayed traumatic displacement’. One grave burden of knowing the minds of other ponies is how horribly you got to know your own.

With a mind to make a swift exit the filly slid carefully out of bed and plodded her way to the open door.

Beyond she could see a small sitting space and simple kitchen, now mostly occupied by a well built Pegasus buck, definatly not Ritch Tea. A sofa nearby had a spare blanket thrown over the garishly outdated plaid cushions, clearly having surved as the stallion’s bed the night before. The only other furniture in the room was a small standing table, upon which a beautifully maintained sword and sheaf were reverentially laid. Not quite what she had been expecting, but significantly more welcome then the back of a stable wagon.

As if on cue the filly’s stomach gurgled in protest at the previous night’s meagre meal. Oh well. It wasn’t like she could sneak past her impromptu host and, truth be told, she was very hungry.

Stepping full length into the adjoining room, Cherry coughed politely to the stranger in front of the stove.

“If I wasn’t wanting of the company, I wouldn’t have invited you to chat, hun.” Cherry nickered, watching Dusk carrying drinks to the party she had seen in the long mirror.

“It’s just...”

Faltering mid exposition, the filly cast her gaze back to the steamed glass as once again she failed to frame some complex thought.

Finally she seemed to settle on shifting the conversation in a more comfortable direction, at least for a little while. Waving a fore hoof in a motion that both dismissed and boasted an over extravagance brought on by inebriation. Max’s sense of smell had been right, the filly been drinking long before she’d entered this particular bar.

“You don’t seem so bad, from the outside in at least. I’ve kept worse company that’s for certain.”

Time began to glide past for the drinkers, the awkward minuets of silence quickly adding up for another half hour. Woozy from rhubarb intoxication and starting on her fifth intreguing cocktail, Cherry saught for something to pick up a conversation again. Although she'd never admit it, she was terrable at being lonly, simply couldn't get the hang of keeping quiet when there was space to fill with conversation. Something in the mirror caught her eye once again. Muzzy recognition caused a slight shift in the young face that suggested the expression had become genuine. She was drunk, but still she felt like she had to care and couldn't bring her self to look at the biuness pony beside her. Now that gaping maw of emptiness was tearing once more at her chest, threatening to rip the filly in two if she didn't brake the awful silence.

“So what do you work in? Marketing? Banking?”

“To see if you knew the answer too.” Replied the filly, honestly. Despite the ever present smile, pity now edged Cherry’s sanguine eyes.

“Have to admit you’re really good at that though.” She continued in amusement “It’s like you almost believed it yourself.”

Sighing theatrically, the Pegasus rested her fore-hooves across the bar and stretched the smile a little further. “You know, I don’t think I want to go down this path. It’s been one of those days and right now I just want to relax an' pretend I don't care.”

For a moment something seemed to catch the filly’s gaze before it returned to Max “So, do you have any amusing anecdotes, or maybe a have game of pool? Suppose that would be a good group activity," At this she paused to take a strategic draft from her tumbler "- we could invite your ‘friends’ to join in too, if you like?”

“Same again, Ms Dawn?” Dusk queried as he swept up Cherry’s empty glass in a glimmering aura, leaving the Filly with the straw in her mouth.

“Something a little fruitier I think. You pick, hun.” She replied, smiling from behind the bent pipe.

Twiddeling the ornament thoughtfully, the filly observed as her old friend began wisking down various brightly coloured bottles from the shelf. At least the distraction gave her a moment or two to think though an answer.

Eventually with Dusk whisking bottles in through the air in a flurry of creation, she turned back to Max.

“Oh, it’s not that the circumstances aren’t sometimes difficult or overwhelming at first glance.” She explained, feeling out her words carefully. “But once you strip away the elaborate ideals we surround our lives in, it’ll always come down to the same formula. What was it now? ‘Needs breed drives, which return fulfilment and enrichment, which give rise to new needs.’ I think that’s what the book said anyway. Ponies convince themselves that something hurting them is insurmountable because they make them out to be more complicated then they need to be. Sorry to say it hun, but we’re just a kind of animal with intelegence and pretentions of aw-Oh!”

Pausing for moment the Pegasus observed the large ornate glass that had been placed in front of her. Inside a strange red concoction glistened tantalisingly. With a look of mild confusion, Cherry leaned over and dipped the straw between the crushed ice cubes, taking a long tentative sip.

“...It tastes purple?” She exclaimed, eyebrows raised at the smirking bartender.

Dusk chuckled as the cocktail apparatus began to clear itself from the table “I thought it would match your mane perfectly, Ma’am.”

Giggling slightly, Cherry rolled her eyes at the stallion and returned to her drinking partner’s conversation “Anyway, I mean, for instance; you look like the kind of stalion who's done well for himself. You're healthy, you look well off and secure in life... so are you happy? An’ don’t lie,-" She insinuated groggily "- cause I already know the answer.”

“Hmm. No offence, but I come here specifically ‘not’ to talk about things. You know how it is.”

Though her pleasantly disarming smile did not seem to fade, something about the filly’s tone seemed almost disappointed. As briefly as it had surfaced, the flotsam of open emotions drifted back under the sanguine sea of Cherry’s heavy eyes.

“As for the quotations... well, mindreading is for unicorns and stage magicians. Really it’s a case of knowing ponies. No matter how complicated life may seem sometimes, everypony has the same problems deep down.”

A feeling was stealing over max as he listened. Speaking to the youth felt odd, like talking to yourself while somepony else was listening, a conversation with a reflection. All the while were those sanguine eyes, tranquil unjudging mirrors. Something must have show on the business pony’s face, as the filly quickly looked back to her enticing drink.

Taking a long sip and gesturing to the barkeep for a topup, the pegasus razed an eye brow as though something had just slipped her attention “Oh, and it’s Cherry by the way. So, whats yours?”

“-nuh really.” A pained voice slurred from under the tangles of purple mane. Watery eyes looked up from the coble roadside, their pupils unfocused as they gazed first at the face of her rescuer and then at her rash exit some two stories above. Glistening lines pocked her red coat, outlining the edges of cuts and shards of glass. Oblivious to her injuries the mare began to lift herself back onto all fours but stumbled heavily as her uncoordinated legs refused to propel her.

Momenterily defeated, the mare leaned against the red brick wall and tried to gather her scattered senses.

“Thanks,” She wheezed, turning to her unlikely saviour and offering him a groggy smile “Verah... Gentlecoltly of you. I... I aught ta’go. They’ll be back soon.”

Glancing at the empty window once more, a sorrowful grimace beset the filly’s features, as though something was hurting her more than the shards of glass. Stealing her addled thoughts, the young Pegasus pushed herself unsteadily towards the ally exit... and began to slowly keel over like a birch tree in a stiff wind.

A nifty little game someone linked me too. Link up gems to attack, increase your defence or use your pet's super secret powers!

http://ponyvspony.artix.com/

If anyone plays this, here's my friend code: 10707-A667

“Oh hun,” Chuckled the filly, the smell of old spirits and merriment clinging to her breath “there’s always a reason, good bad or otherwise.”

Despite her playful avoidance of Max’s questioning, it seemed that the Pegasus was becoming more relaxed in the light conversation. Gradually the tension was fading from her face, her mood evaporating like the dew slowly drying on her coat.

“Like you, for instance, if you don’t mind my saying. I suspect-” she cleared her throat, striking a dramatic pose reminiscent of some fairground soothsayer, “-That you have reached a dichotomy in life, a difficult situation or choice that you would rather not face, not just yet.”

Pausing briefly, she winked at the business pony's mixxed expression and dropped her stance giggling “But then again, that describes every lone drinker in this place. SO! How about we break from the annals of the lonely and instead drink ‘together’?”

From the jagged remnants of the window a panicked face stared down at the theatre below, dabbing at a blooded nose with a crimson soiled handkerchief. “Don’t hurt her! Just bring her back inside!”

Glancing up at the young stallion, the pursuers closed in, growling lowly at the pintsized Pegasus presumin to give them orders.

“I through you said she was under." Barked a shadow, stepping up to the fallen filly "This dosn’t look very under to me. We tried it your way, now we do it ours, so shut it and go clean yourself up.”

Ears pricked up at the sound of hoof beats approaching. Palpably the atmosphere thickened as two sets of grey eyes turned towards the silhouette of the newcomer. Through the gloom came a snort of arrogant amusement, followed closely by the spark of brass horseshoes against the worn cobbles.

“Keep walking, shorty.” Spoke the first shadow, stepping between the crawling figure and the unwelcome audience “This ain’t none of your concern.”

Behind the bulky winged shade, the second stranger pinned a heavy hoof upon the weekly struggling shape, pressing the drug addled victim down as a she flailed in a glut of slurred cusses.

Taking another long drag from the bitter sweet concoction, Cherry turned to regard the well dressed unicorn with a searching gaze. Unlike the other patrons of the bar, her features seemed to be a contained oxymoron, a week but genuine smile gracing a face that seemed both young and old at the same time. Yet her eyes were stranger still, sparkling with a reassurance and strength of character that couldn’t be dampened by any weight the world could place upon them. No one could worry about a pony with eyes like that, they just seemed so disarming and sober. Right now those sanguine orbs were searching Max’s own, as though taking his heart and weighing it against a feather.

“Posibly,” Responded the Pegasus, her smile stretching just a little further “But I doubt that would normally worry you. Besides, I have the bits and the reason, surly thats all that anypony else needs in a place like this?”

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.

“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?”

“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.”

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.

Gratefully retrieving a drink of her own from Macky, the Pegasus foal sat transfixed by her friend’s tale.

"Wow Hazey! You're so lucky. Hmm, I wonder if I should have a go at improving Grammy's baking? Then again, after the puddin' accident last High Winter, she said she'd throttle me if I ever set hoof in her kitchen again."

Though gossip wasn't really her thing, Peabee did have some news that needed sharing as soon as possible.

"Oh! You've got amazing timeing too. You'll never believe this!" the foal swept away the assorted flotsam from the table top and dealved into her saddle bags "This is why I wanted everyone to be here today. You remember my Great uncle Butternut, the one with all the amazing stories about the haunted parts of the forrest an' stuff. Well! Last weekend I helped move a load of stuff out of his cellar, an' as a reward he gave me, This!"

With a flourish the foal pulled out a long folded tube of paper, holding it up reverentially as though it were some holy grail or deed to the kingdom. Carefuly, Peabee began to unroll the crinkled scroll, revealing a crewed map of the Nimbus highlands and Old Oak wood. Blotched with brown stains and tarshished at the edges, the map cirtaintly 'looked' old, though the scent of coffee grounds hung suspiciously in the air around it.

"It's a TREASURE map!" Announced the foal proudly, indicating the dotted line that led from the beaver dam, out into the wood and ended near one of the many streams that lead away from the great lakes.

"Apparently, it leads to a stash left by Captain Black Mane! The most fearsest pirate pony every to sail Nibusguite lake!"

((Is this dead ish? If no one's bothered any more me and Robbie are probably going to end up hijacking it >.> ))

Though the secretary was somewhat miffed at the extra work the filly had created along with the ruckus, Daisy still seemed satisfied with Peabee’s honest apology. Handing her a spare mop the mare instructed her to start clearing the stair well. With mop and bucket in tow, Peabee trotted back to the pair just as Tempest made her suggestion. Her young face contorted with a look of apprehension as it was mentioned whom the other victim of the frog-chase probably was.

“The Mayor! Oh Trifle, hope she's not too mad.â€Â

((Again, really sorry for the short reply, I honestly can't think of anything else to do here. Btw, where are we going to take this thread after this little missadventure is sorted out?))

Reading through her backlog of fan mail?